Land of Hope and Glory
by Narumo
Summary: A compilation of stories centered around England, the nations of the UK and Scandinavia. France, Canada, USA and many others show up too.
1. Rún

Authors' Notes: Special warning, this fic is crackful. Epic fail at Sweden accent! Hard to know what it would sound when you speak Spanish... And I'm not even going to try phonetics. Iain, Sean, Aeron and Patrick belong to Jackidy. Iceland, Denmark and Norway's names are mine.

* * *

Rún

Denmark grinned and snuggled against the protesting blue clad man, the sailor hat falling to the floor during the skirmish, as its owner shouted at the Danish nation to release him now. The Norwegian nisse was all to happy to 'help' the Danish man and tugged at his nation's harelip until it came off, Edgily watching the spectacle with bored purple eyes as they waited for the rest of the countries to arrive.

The Scandinavian nations (plus Iceland) had agreed to met and spent the afternoon in a pub in Heralds' territory to catch up with each other, Peter safely at Lithuania's house for the day having a sleep over with Raivis. Iceland had arrived earlier with his (the nation shuddered) older brother and the Danish man had proceeded to glomp the shorter man upon arrival, cooing at him gleefully.

"Norway~ I haven't seen you in a while~" The pub patrons glanced to see what the commotion was but turned back to their business when they saw it was only a man hugging another (Iceland was gland that Svi had chosen a establishment were they wouldn't get kicked out before getting smashed first.) "Hey there little guy, how is it going?"

"Let me go, you oaf!" Sigurðr grinned but let the blond go. He sat down and ordered two beers as he began to talk to the nisse who had decided to sit on his shoulder. "Can I have my clip back, please?"

"Spoilsport." Hemming refrained from hitting the other since his fairy was using him as a seat, though he was sorely tempted.

"Fin, I really wonder were you pull all that." The reunion was well underway as the nations knocked back their drink for the nth time. Finland and Norway, much to his chagrin, were sitting at either side of the Danish man, Berwald at the fin's side while Iceland completed the circle. Sigurðr was the heaviest drinker of the five but Tino drank a lot for such a small man in the nations' opinion.

"Hum? I don't know what you mean." Tino smiled contently as he polished another beer.

"Really Norwe~ How can you let him outdrink ya? You are taller than him!" It was a known fact that Sigurðr didn't care much about personal space, but it did not mean that the Norwegian felt comfortable about it, even after all the centuries together.

"Take your hands off!" The Danish man gasped for breath, letting his drink fall when the other man punched him in the gut. "I'm not a pet for you to manhandle me like one!"

"Jess, Hemmy, no need to kill me." The blond grumped and took his beer back from where it had, thankfully upright, landed. "Ya have certainly turned violent lately. Berwald, you are a really bad influence to him."

"Sh't 'p. Yo' 'r' n' b'tt'r." The swede glanced up from his drink and the Dane smirked back dangerously.

"Berwald..."

"Honestly." Denmark winced as he received a swat on the head from his neighbour. "Stop that you idiot. If anyone is causing trouble is you."

"You are mean, Norway~."

Maybe it was the several beers he had consumed or the stress he was getting by fretting over his younger brother crashing economy. Perhaps it was a little of both or, as Berwald would later say to his partner, that he simply had gotten too used to badmouthing the other without him taking offense for it. Whatever it was, there was not hiding the fact that the Scandinavian nation went a little to far with his words.

"Like you would understand it. Honestly, I don't know how we managed to live under the same roof once. I don't see how anyone can stand you, no wonder Svi..." Norway trailed off as his mind caught up with his mind, his brother and Finland wide eyes telling him what he already knew.

Denmark's face, which usually presented a wide, and somewhat idiotic in Iceland opinion, had grown dark at his brother's words. The subject of Sweden leaving and taking Finland with him (Or Finland following him) was a rather sensitive affair among them. The fact that Norway had left to join them to preserve his newly declared independence even more so.

"Then maybe you should sleep in his bed then." Finland yelped when the Dane slapped the arms that were trying to force him back to his seat, even Berwald staying quiet. The silent man knew that certain things were best left unsaid, like the Winter War. Tino and him had made their peace about the whole affair but it still remained as a 'I-won't-mention-it-if-you-don't' topic. Even Peter had learned to not ask about such matters after a rather uncomfortable time when he had asked England about the Roman Empire while reading about his 'cool' history.

The four separated shortly after, the evening turning sour after their once ruler stormed off.

* * *

"I can't believe you don't know were he is!" Sean shouted as his ex wife glared back at him. "He is your bloody son!"

"It's none of you bloody business! Patrick is free to go where he wish!" Arthur was quickly losing his temper as his Irish ex-husband demanded to know where their son had disappeared to. If the lad, as Arthur suspected he had, wanted to go out with his ex-colony in a date he had the damn right to do so, meddling father or not.

"If he is with that freaking-" Ireland yelped as Arthur punched him soundly in the face, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Don't you dare finish that you waker, no one insults my son." Sean, if he had been in a calmer state of mind, would had noticed how much he looked like he had in his pirate days. Instead, the nation only saw red and jumped to his feet angrily.

"Do you even bloody care about Patrick you-" The country growled as his brother physically stopped him from advancing towards their younger brother who had turned pale with rage.

"You have no right to say that to me! After all you have done to him!" Arthur growled as Aeron graved him to stop a new war from starting in the British islands.

"ME! DON'T TALK LIKE YOU GIVE A FLYING FUCK! THE ONLY THING YOU CARED ABOUT WAS HIS GODDAMNED TERRITORY! YOU MURDERED HIS PEOPLE WITHOUT THOUGHT!" Aeron didn't have time to react before Arthur shock him off, face contorted with rage and grief.

"... If that is what you thought of me... Why did you even bothered to come back?!" Eyes widening, Sean closed his mouth with an audible snap, his anger leaving him as he came back to his senses. The pain that his independence had brought them was too fresh for them to talk and not hurt one another. Fights about Patrick's fate were not uncommon in the household, be it as Northern Ireland or the boy himself. However, he had not blamed the British for 'the Troubles' for a long time, having accepted the fact that both of them were to blame in that particular issue.

Arthur, however, had disappeared long before any of them could think to stop him.

* * *

Hemming growled under his breath as he sat on his Danish lover's bed, the house silence mocking him. Denmark had disappeared after his insensitive, even from him, words at the Scandinavian meeting and had yet to came home. After eating his pride, he had asked his neighbours. None had seen the man since the event either and since the man's boss hadn't asked either, he suspected he had informed them he was going to be missing for a while.

Norway cursed as he snuggled in the big bed, blaming the larger nation for the feeling of loneliness and guilt that plagued him. Why did he had to chose this moment to be sensitive, damn it?!

* * *

While in the following weeks Ireland calmed down, specially after his son came back from his date with the Asian country (Chaperoned by Australia and New Zealand) things grow tense in the British islands when the personification of England failed to return home. Northern Ireland had not been very happy with his father after learning about the incident from his uncles and gave the older man a verbal beating for it to go with the once he already received from his other two brothers.

So it was a rather disgruntled group of nations that entered the conference room, the rest of the world nations following them.

All of which stopped short when they saw a rather pretty if somewhat flat (If you compared her to Ukraine or Hungary of course) girl dressed in a female navy uniform dosing in the formally missing and currently sleeping Danish man.

"What the- ARTHUR!" Aeron shouted as he stalked towards the now awaken duo, several nations gasping as the pretty girl lifted his head from his 'cushion' to reveal the British's rather peeved expression. "What are you doing with that fucking wanker?! You have been missing for three WEEKS!"

Now, to understand Wales rather explosive reaction one must think about the nation resent and distant past. The blond had been worrying about his missing twin for the last weeks after his brothers' quarrel reasonably sure that the British man would be fine, but growing steadily put out by his and Scotland undeserved, in his opinion, punishment. Why did they for Arthur to disappear as he had done?!

However, Aeron's anger came mostly from his rather volatile relationship with the Danish man before him and the swede somewhere behind him. When the twins were babies, the two had taken Arthur and mostly raised him in the Danish country until the Mediterranean freak had token the blond, leaving the small nation to fend on his own. Arthur had spent some years under the then Caledonia's care but Wales had not meet his twin until the time when the french bastard had took over his lands.

That had left Aeron rather bitter towards the two Scandinavians, a fact he made abundantly clear when he found his twin in their presence. It was one bloody thing to bitch about the British bastards (people) but Arthur was a completely different matter! The British was his!

"TAKE YOUR SODDING HANDS OFF HIM BEFORE I CUT THEM WITH A RUSTY SPOON YOU FUCKER!"

Arthur glared at him in his primly way but got off the Scandinavian nation's lap, short baby blue skirt brushing against his white stockings teasingly. Aeron bristled at the thought that he was dressing like that for someone who was not either Iain, Sean or himself. The damned male even looked confused at his anger and them pushed his sibling back into his lap by wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Nah~ We can participate like this, right?" Norway glared darkly at that and even his nisse and Iceland took a step away from him to avoid been caught in the incoming crossfire.

"YOU MOST CERTAINLY WON'T!"

"Aeron stop shouting. Honestly, what is your sodding problem?" Sigurðr whined as the British stood again and moved away from reach. Arthur ignored him as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his twin. Alfred and Canada, as well as several other countries couldn't help but notice the fact that Arthur looked eerily feminine while doing that. "Stop shouting for God's sake."

"WHAT IS MY PROBLEM?! I tell you what is my sodding problem; you disappear for weeks and appear dressed like a fucking whore with that pervert!"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME YOU- Stand away Denmark!" Sigurðr, regardless of the irate British protest, stalked towards the welsh, pulling his signature axe from places unknown.

"You sit down." Arthur growled but stood back as the Dane advanced towards Wales. "Now, you... Let make something clear you cunt, if you say that kind of shit once more I will gut you, brother or not."

Aeron growled but whatever answer he was prepared to give was cut by a shriek and a whistle. While all attention had been concentrated on them, none had noticed France sneaking towards the British nation until a hand flung the other's skirt up. Now, normally that wouldn't have caused the two warring countries to stop, Arthur was well versed in the art of reducing the french to pulp. However, one small fact stopped them.

When Francis lifted the skirt, exposing pale thighs covered by white shorts, there was a rather noticeable absence between the nation's legs. Now, there was not much time to process this as Francis soon found himself running around the room as Arthur (Was she even Arthur?) chased him with the Dane's Axe, finally nailing with hit the handle in the gut. Only Sigurðr rather timely interruption saved the french neck from departing from the rest of the body as he effortlessly took his weapon back and handed the woman the sailor hat she had dropped during the chase.

"Well~ I don't think you really need us here so~." Arthur yelped as the Danish nation picked her up without effort. "Francis~ Be gland she got you first or I would had made sure you could never attempt to satisfy a woman or man again~." Francis whimpered from the floor as Denmark gifted him with a rather psychotic smile. "See you all later~." With that the man picked the pair's bags, causing another shriek from the woman on his shoulder as she clutched him, and her glasses, for dear life before abandoning the room, Patrick chasing after them.

"... Erh, Uncle Iain? Who was that?" Matthew was the first to find his voice and the nations gathered around the red head, meeting long forgotten in light of the more interesting, and confusing, events.

"Yeah, that girl was wearing my uniform! Sort of! And why did you call her by the jerk's name?!" Tino yelped as Sealand appeared, Hana-Tamago barking from the child's embrace.

"Sealand! What are you doing here?!"

"Aeron, she is going to kill you. Francis, I'm going to kill you, you bloody frog." Scotland grunted but sat on the conference table, the rest of the nations taking their usual seats, Sealand on the finish lap. "Well, yeah, to answer the main question, that was indeed Arthur."

"But that was a woman!" Alfred pointed the obvious but glaring problem passing over most nations' minds.

"Gee, you noticed, you sodding yank?" Iain mocked him, not at all surprised by the kid's (to him) point. "Ever heard of a shapeshifter? Where did you think Patrick came from?"

"Hum, excuse me... I don't mean to interrupt but has anyone seen Su-san?"

* * *

Denmark smirked as his daughter, of sorts, tugged at the uniform's skirt, clearly uncomfortable by the short length. Northern Ireland was clutching one of the girl's arms while the blond guided her by the waist. Berwald had joined them shortly after Patrick and now the four of them were walking while enjoying a cone of ice-cream.

"So yo' w'r' 't h'r ho's'?"

"Yeah, Morgana said she had to blow some steam and we are staying at the seaside mansion." Morgana grumped as she was pushed into the Dane chest but didn't push away her more affectionate father. Patrick, thankfully, was behaving in the presence of the (what were they anyway? His grandparents?) two older nations.

"H'mming w's worri'd."

Denmark glared at the floor before looking back at the other. There was a usually hidden pain in the Danish nations eyes. "...I will go back, eventually... Just... Not for a while."

"I'll c'll yo' if yo'r boss n'ds yo'."

"Thanks."

* * *

It took a few months for the dust to settle after Arthur's (Or was is Morgana's?) powers were revealed to the world. During which Norway, Wales and Ireland finally managed to get the two nation's forgiveness and thing returned to more or less normal. The curious nations played a large part in it, specially Arthur's colonies, who wanted to now if they were like Patrick or not.

* * *

End

Author's Note: Hope your brain doesn't need bleach after that. This piece was born because no matter how a person may not notice, snide comments can hurt people we care about without knowing how much it affects them. 'Tsundere' or not.

The bit about shapeshifter Arthur was born by the fic by Jackidy, 'Nothing to Prove' in which Arthur is the biological mother of Patrick and Himaruya's drawing of a female Arthur (a.k.a Igiko).

Also, in Arthur's own words, he is like the son of the ex-wife/husband who the new boy/girlfriend deeply dislikes. Considering the new girlfriend would be_ Norway_ and the ex-wife/husband_ Sweden_... Finland likes him though, even after the Winter War. Iceland, well~ you will find out later. Yeah, head cannon is weird.

Sh't 'p. Yo' 'r' n' b'tt'r.: Shut up. You are no better.

So yo' w'r' 't h'r ho's'?: So you were at her house?

H'mming w's worri'd.: Hemming was worried.

I'll c'll yo' if yo'r boss n'ds yo'.: I'll call you if your boss needs you.


	2. British Brides

Author's Notes: A rather random idea that refused to go away. Warning, Arthur exhibits shapeshifter abilities in this, but feel free to image him as a particularly good crossdresser. Oh, by the way, those are not necessarily connected, but it helps to read them all. Iain, Sean, Aeron and Patrick belong to Jackidy. Iceland, Denmark and Norway's names are mine.

* * *

British Brides

When Arthur failed to appear to one of their meetings, Canada suggested that they check on him. England had been hit hard by German bombings, London most of all. Even Francis had been worried for him, the man clutching his chest as his heart burned, fever leaving him incoherent. Which explained why the Allies found themselves wandering around the British city.

Soldiers, from every corner of the globe, with pretty British girls hanging from their arms where a common sight now days, as they prepared to counterattack the Axis. Things had been hard on the island, food scare and always in alert for the sound of airplanes. While a stubborn and proud breed of people, the people of the United Kingdom had grown weary long ago. Only the promise of peace and victory kept the nation fighting, a fight they could easily end by just giving in.

Australia and Canada had come quickly to their aid, separate but still distinctly united to the empire. While Alfred had sent what help he could, it was Matthew who Arthur would talk about battle plans and supply lines. Australia was not far behind, always eager to help, steadfast when all failed, a rock Arthur could relay on. While much appreciated, there was some resentment of the United States, they had stayed back until they couldn't ignore the war anymore, content to wait in the safety of they land on the other side of the sea, ready to take the top when the war ended. But no-one was willing to refuse a help so sorely needed.

"Like, I totally need to speak with Arthur. I totally can't believe he didn't came." Heracles nodded slowly, absently brushing his uniform off. The ginger cat he carried on his other arm, however, turned the gesture pointless. Norway didn't look any happier as he grumbled to his nisse.

"Give the man a brake, he is tired from all the work he was being doing." Christopher scowled, koala staring murderously at them. "It is rare for the old man to forget a meeting, maybe the age is catching with him."

"Australia, that's not nice." The man flashed a smile at the Canadian cheekily. "I'm worried. Arthur was been running himself ragged, you shouldn't joke about it."

"Mathieu, you worry to much mon chere. Angleterre is too stubborn to let any of this stop him." New Zealand glared as the french man hugged the Canadian. Francis grinned at the British colony, receiving a punch to the face for his trouble. "Ah~ You are truly Arthur's child."

"If you don't keep your hands to yourself I will give you another." Hemming snapped, glaring hotly at a pair of soldiers who were trying unsuccessfully to flirt with him. "Alfred, keep your boys away from me or I'll make them."

"Haha, my soldiers are just showing how awesome they are!" Yao sighed, rubbing his forehead as his headache worsened.

"Can we please just find him, aru?" The Chinese man really wanted to see his little brother, but he needed to ask the British were Hong Kong was at the moment. "Do any of you know were we can find him?"

"One of his nice ladies said he was at the airport." Ivan informed, the rest feeling sorry for the woman in question. "I'm not really in a hurry anyway~"

"Maybe we should have asked for a car." Canada didn't mind the walk, but having all the nations together like this was never a good idea, fights were all to quick to start. He didn't fancy breaking another fight between his twin and the Russian without the British help again.

"I'm sure we will be fine Matthew~" Ivan was really enjoying the rare sunny day, wondering if he could see any sunflowers in the way. USA was quick to grab him, noisily pointing at some random thing when the Russian moved to put a hand on the Canadian's back.

The countries had by now made their way to the edge of the street, waiting for the traffic to stop to cross. Alfred and Ivan were fighting over Matthew while Francis tried to feel Norway up. Feliks and Heracles were discussing something about their respective governments, Christopher cheerfully following the french example with Alexander. This all came to stop when a familiar voice called them over from a parking Jeep.

"Arthur?!" Alfred would later deny that his voice had reached such a pitched note, specially as it was Ivan who cheerfully remained him about the incident. "What are you wearing?!"

Arthur stared at him puzzled, almost like he was pondering the need to answer such obvious question. His long, white dress danced with the breeze, one hand keeping his or rather her hat on top of his brained long hair. The British was standing on her seat, offering the soldier who had drove the vehicle quite the nice view of her behind. "What are you doing here?"

"What are we? Where were you? You missed the meeting completely." Christopher replied as he thighed his hold on his Kiwi, no need for the bloodshed to start with their mother present. They just would made sure to catch the pervert when they had some free time... or mention the incident to Wales. "Really mom, you really lost track of time."

"I'm not your bloody mother." Australia shuddered the glare easily after years of practice. The British didn't seem to concerned, instead grabbing a bag from under her seat and smiling at the soldier cheerily. "Thank you for bringing me Frank."

"No need to thank me. If you ever need anything you know where to find me." Even Francis had began to glare at the soldier, who ignored him completely in favour of giving the British a wrapped parcel. The man left then, waving as he going back the way he came from. The woman was attracting a crow, soldiers quite interested in her confident air and cheerfully demur. Norway was strangely grateful for Sweden and Denmark absence, they would had not stand for it.

"Nice man, can't believe he is a your's." Alfred snorted, busy between glaring at his departing citizen and staring at the girl in front of him. "What are you staring at?!"

"...You are not going alone anywhere, do you understand me?" Yao sighed as England began to protest, things descending quickly into a fight, Ivan in one front, England on the other and England's former and current colonies of the last one. None wanted to see a man flirting with their mother after all.

The Allies decided to periodically bring her sweets and tea after the incident, for different reasons having no wish to give the British reason to accept the soldiers' gifts.

* * *

Author's Notes: ... Seriously, I don't know. The mental image of Arthur's colonies was funny though.


	3. A Nightingale Sang In Berkley Square

Author's Notes: Apparently, my mind decided 'British Brides' was not nearly enough. Iain, Sean, Aeron and Patrick belong to Jackidy. Iceland, Denmark and Norway's names are mine.

* * *

A Nightingale Sang In Berkley Square

Alfred stared around curiously as Francis dragged him into the room, the sound of music and laugher cheering the nation as they reached his ear. The place was big and bursting with people, and USA wondered how he had missed the place as France guided him to a table at the center where Canada was chatting with a rather pretty British girl. He felt right at place, since many of the men wore their uniforms, including his brother and the Frenchman, the girls winking at him as he grinning back.

France had insisted he take the evening off, adamant he accompany him. Alfred, while he did enjoy a good party any time, had not gone out to party in a month, busy at work with Arthur and Ivan as they planned their counter attack. He had investigated when he had first arrived, but time had been scarce of late. Which was the reason he had not seen any harm in giving in to the french demands.

His breath caught on his throat was he caught sight of a pretty thing in white in the arms of one of his soldiers, golden hair flying, skirt flaring as the man spun her around, fey laugh reaching him even across the distance. France laughed and smirked at him as he caught him staring, whistling as he spied the object of his attention. Matthew had left the table by now, dancing happily with the girl he had seen with him either.

"Mon chere, I see someone was already caught your eye, oui?" Alfred blushed, nodding as Poland joined them, shinning in his azure dress, a couple of Norwegian soldiers asking if their could buy him a drink. Feliks appeared to be quite happy about the attention, leaving soon after, one of the soldier's arms on his waist with only a small wave in his direction. "So, will you ask her for a dance?"

"Hum..." The Frenchman smirked, almost a if he knew something he didn't, winking at a dancing Australia who grinned back, in his arms a rather irate looking brunette. Even if the woman glared, the pair still managed to move gracefully around the floor, the girl blushing when the male kissed her on the cheek. He didn't knew the Australian had a girlfriend.... Was she a nation like them? He didn't recognize her... "Maybe I will..."

"Ah, is that fear I hear, Alfred?" USA scoffed at the thought, as if he would be afraid of anything, he was the hero! But even if only to himself he had to agree that going over to the woman, who had by now changed partner, and asking her for a dance was rather intimidating. And very embarrassing if the girl declined the offer. "Don't worry mon chere, I'm sure she will be quite happy to dance with you."

"You think she would?" Canada had changed partners too, new dancing with a pretty redhead who was laughing at something he said. He wondered where his brother's bear had gone to... Maybe he was with the Australian's koala? Maybe one of the other nations where looking after them. Arthur maybe? "...You really think so?"

"Of course." Alfred stared as the pretty girl in white started to dance with Christopher, Matthew now dancing with the brunette girl contently. He had never know his brother had so much luck with girls... Maybe he was wrong about Australia and the girl? "She seems to like Mattie well enough."

It was true as the brunette had returned to the Australian's arms as his brother spun the other, white dress flying to reveal toned legs. The girl was laughing, hair free as she moved, the Canadian leading her easily around the room until a redheaded man which Alfred vaguely recognized as his Uncle Iain cut in, taking the girl with him. By now the party was in full swing, couples in every corner as the music flowed.

"Well, what are you waiting for, mon chere?" Francis had came back after a few dance, smile in place as he observed the other nation. The blond was a little flushed, sweaty hands rubbing at his pants in an absent minded effort to get them dry, he shouldn't have removed his globes... "I fear you don't have all night."

The girl changed arms again, the Scottish man leaving with another blond girl in a crimson, a tall raven haired male her partner this time, one the woman didn't seem too eager to be with. USA scowled as he spied the holding on the protesting blonde's wrist, the female looking ready to punch the male in the face. "... I'm going now." He ignored the small chuckle the other gave as he approached the two, tapping the man smartly on the shoulder, giving him his best polite smile. "May I cut in?"

"...Of course." The woman didn't wait for the man response, Alfred almost tripping himself up as he started to dance, golden hair brushing his face and arms teasingly. The hand in his was soft, softer than what he would had guessed, the dress fabric equally as soft under his hand. "Alfred, I didn't know you were here."

The pretty girl he had been pinning on all night was Arthur.

"Art-!" The nation put a hand over his mouth, smiling all the time as her eyes glared daggers at him. Of course, she was dressed as a girl, she would not like him shouting her name. When the nation nodded to show he understood, England removed her hand, dipping back as Alfred held her, wrapping one leg between his. "Francis brought me here..."

"You may call me Morgana." He moved faster as the beat increasing in speed, the other nation never missing a step. He soon found himself grinning, his laugh echoed by England as they spend the rest of the evening together until Scotland came back. Alfred now was able to recognize the other blond as his Uncle Aeron, looking rather comfortable in his red dress. He grinned, kissing the other on the cheek before leaving the place with Matthew and Francis, goofy smile firmly in place.

* * *

Author's Notes: Feel free to interpret this as whatever you like, as this drabble mean little but to show a dancing England.


	4. Cupcake

Author's Notes: This http://i41(dot)tinypic(dot)com/rsdhs8(dot)jpg fancomic fault's.

* * *

Cupcake

Alfred was hungry, grumbling under his breath as he waited for England to return home. The countries were suppose to be at a meeting at the moment but the British had been called away due to an emergency at the Queen's castle just before they started. Which left USA in a empty house with an empty stomach. And bored, so very bored. Seriously, how boring could a house be?

After growing tired of waiting, the blond decided to raid the house for some food, finally finding a cupcake laying on the kitchen table. It didn't look like Arthur's usual cooking but he figure he had bought it somewhere. The thing was sweet and tasty so Alfred began to hunt for another since the small thing was hardly enough to satisfy his stomach. But as he searched, he began to felt drowsy, vision growing fuzzy even when he took his glasses off. Alfred barely managed to sit down on the floor before the world turned black, his mind too fogged up to even panic as he fainted.

* * *

The sound of a door closing woke him up, as a voice called for him from another room. He tried to raise himself groaning as his head throbbed but there was a weight on top of his chest that stopped him. Alfred rose his head trying to determine what had fallen on top of him, breath stopping when the puzzled face a blond toddler greeted him. Both stared, one set of eyes widening while the other tilted his head curiously, small hand poking at his cheek as if trying to make sure he was real.

"Alfred, answer me you prat. I swear, if the idiot left I will..." Arthur trailed off as he stared at the nation on the floor and the kid laying on top of him, mind turning blank as he recognized the boy. "Alfred, what did you do!?"

"Nothing!" Alfred and the kid glared at each other, England letting out a exasperated sigh. The older nation picked the toddler up, embracing him as he turned to glare at USA. The kid snuggled contently, apparently quite happy to be held by the older nation. Alfred hunched back, face turning away as he chewed his lip furiously as he stomped angry at the feeling growing in his gut.

"I quite doubt a younger version of you appearing qualifies at nothing Alfred. Now, tell me what you did." The younger nation grumbled, it wasn't his fault! If anything, it was England's! Alfred hadn't done anything wrong! "Alfred!" The country winced, it was a long time since Arthur used that tone of voice, like an exasperated parent scolding a misbehaving son.

"I... I only eat a cupcake cause I was hungry! What did you put in it?!" Thick eyebrows frowned as he inspected the plate the other nation pointed angry at. "See, see?"

"What ever you ate was not anything I baked or bought." A sound from the baby turned the British attention from Alfred, the country smiling fondly at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you are hungry aren't you?"

"Yes! Iggy, make me something to eat!" Alfred glared at his Doppelganger, little brat was drawing the attention to himself! The kid was evil! "Iggy!"

"Of course Alfred, just give me a moment." The nation placed the child on one of the chairs, completely ignoring the other nation as he started to cook, humming as he did. Alfred glared at the kid angrily while the other grinned innocently back, eyes shinning. He was convinced, even if England didn't realize it, the kid was pure, unadulterated _evil_.

* * *

"...Well, Scotland and Ireland said they had nothing to do with this and since Wales is missing I suppose he was the one who left the cupcake you ate." Arthur was holding a satisfied colony on his lap, Alfred glaring daggers at him. "Don't glare at me like that, you sodding prat. It's your bloody fault you ended in this mess. I taught you to not eat things you don't know where they come from."

"Yes Iggy!" The kid agreed cheerily, the British man smiling at him kindly.

"See, even a kid knows better." The toddler puffed in his white gown, cheeks turning red as he whinnied.

"Iggy!" Arthur laughed at the kid's indignation, ruffling his hair as the child tugged his shirt. "Iggy!"

"Sorry Alfred, it was not my intention to offend you. Can you forgive me?"

Alfred didn't comment, munching on his hamburger angrily as the dammed brat snuggled mockingly on the British's chest. It wasn't fair! The other was paying more attention to the... the... the thing than to him! He was Alfred, not the brat! England wasn't suppose to ignore him in favour of anyone. Even his twin was less important than USA was! He was awesome, he was the hero! He was the one being completely ignored as the colony assured England he wasn't angry with him hugging him tightly.

"Thank you Alfred." England never smiled like that at him! "Anyway, since Wales hates taking care of meetings he probably didn't make anything that will last long. A day at most I gather. He will be returning soon anyway, as he will want to see how his trick work out. We shall be able to ask him then. "

"Iggy~ Don't ignore me! I'm bored! Let's play!" If Arthur cared about the suddenly sobbing male in his couch, he sure didn't show it as he continued to spoil the kid on his lap. Instead he picked the toddler up, taking him to another part of the house where the kid could run around without knocking down anything.

* * *

England happily ignorant of the silent war the blonds initiated for the nation's attention during the week it took the two Alfreds to merge back, content to spoil the kid rotten while it lasted. It only added salt to the injury when Matthew, Francis and the other nations followed the British lead, ignoring him completely and talking about how adorable the kid was for years.

* * *

Author's Notes: Strangely, Ivan was the worst offender...


	5. Wishes that became Dreams

Author's Notes: Because I couldn't resist the plot bunnies. I don't own Aeron, Iain, Sean and Patrick belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them. Portugal and Mexico are mine as are Cuba, Denmark, Iceland and Norway's names.

* * *

Wishes that became Dreams

"I wish I had gone to France then! I wish I have never been your colony!" Alfred was angry, furious as he shouted, fist shacking. It was not his fault! It was not his fault! He had tried to stop it, but the war was draining him, the bloody war the other had left in his hands, even though he had promised to fight with him. "That way I wouldn't have to deal with your sorry, drunken ass!"

"Alfred!" Matthew was saying something, but the blood was rushing to his head, his ears deaf to everything except his anger. Arthur was standing perfectly still before him, arms slack and a incredulous, heart broken some part of his mind registered, expression on his face. His eyes had became bright, and suddenly a tear and then another were rolling down his cheeks. This was different from when he got drunk, his face pale, hands covering it quickly as shoulders shock with badly suppressed sobs.

"You idiot child!" USA yelped as a woman wearing some sort of tunic, a sari he faintly remembered, pushed him aside and wrapped her arms around the crying Arthur. "There, there pet, don't listen to him."

"I'm not don- Ack!" The blond barely had time to dodge as Christopher aimed a punch at him, a glaring New Zealand at his side. The Australian male was fuming, a rare event on it self, and looking as murderous as his pet. "What's the big idea?!"

"Alfred-san, I think is time you leave." The North American nation gulped, the Naginata's sharp blade a mere foot from his face. Hong Kong was standing next to his sibling, a packet of explosives in his hand, a box of matches on the other. Portugal was on his other side, a sword in hand and a thunderous expression on her face, much like the one she used when going at war.

"I..." His only present uncle, Sean, had joined Akshaya in her effort to calm down the upset British, green eyes burning as the Irish man glared daggers at him. "I..."

"Alfred, you have done enough for one day." Canada was shacking, Seychelles holding on to one arm as Fiji held the other, and soon even Cuba had joined the two to prevent any blood shed, even if Carlos would have really enjoy it. South Africa pointed at the door, almost like he was telling a dog out. "Get out of here."

"You are no-one to-" A hand on his shoulder startled him, Francis gazing at him with a disappointed expression as he pushed him towards the door. "He-hey!"

"Alfred, I think is time you go home." When the french turned him around, he was able to see several nations looking as disappointed as France, Denmark inspecting his axe like he was wondering if he should bother with it or kill him with his bare hands and Finland holding a scowling Sweden firmly in place. Iceland and Norway were wearing matching frowns, Egil for once looking as unforgiving as his older brother. Hell, even Russia and Sealand looked like they wanted to join in the violence.

"A-ah, I'm sor-ry, I'll, I'll, lea-ave..." England didn't bother to finish his sentence before leaving the room with various worried ex-colonies, Portugal and Ireland hot on his heels. Japan closed the door with a bang after himself, leaving only India in the room glaring at him, expression at odds with her usual calm and slightly absent minded demeanour.

"I swear Alfred, if you so much get near him I'll gut you." Her hand was on the bhuj she carried on her side, a wicked thing that could easily slit his throat. USA gulped and nodded, the Indian woman leaving the room quickly, Francis, Sigurðr and Berwald following after her. Hemming grunted darkly as Tino held down a protesting Peter, the Norwegian almost freezing the air around himself in displeasure.

The meeting broke up soon after this, not even Austria protesting, most of the world nations eager to get away from the yank.

* * *

Mexico was the one who checked on him, her eyes holding the same gentleness that Spain's did. The woman was usually feisty, quick to anger but also to forgive, forever annoying him with her illegal immigrants. She would often came over and cook for him, anger forgotten until he found her again on the frontier, laughing to the four winds as she retreated back to her country.

Carmela was often the one who comforted him when he quarreled with Matthew, explaining things USA didn't understand and lending a long suffering ear to the blond to complain to. While the world often ignored his older sister, USA really loved the girl, even if he couldn't understand what she had saying half the time.

"I don't understand why they got mad at me! They are just tossing all the worlds troubles at me to fix them like they speck me to put a rabbit out a hat! I'm a Hero, not God!" The nation had been shouting for the last hour, Carmela munching on some left over tacos from the batch she had cooked Alfred. The sidra was specially nice today, she would have to compliment the producer... "Even Canada sided with them! And England! He is the worse of the bunch! Why can't he stop treating me like a kid?!"

"Maybe because you always act like one?" The Mexican country guessed that it was time to put some perspective in the other's head, even if it only lasted until the next row. "You have to admit that the way you are bitching isn't exactly mature. And I'm not saying what they are doing is fine, no need to start screaming yet."

"Why is no-one at my side?" Alfred greatly resembled a kicked puppy at the moment, she could almost see the ears, but refrained from scratching his head. She was trying to make a point after all. "He deserved it!"

"Alfred, while I'm sure he deserves many things, that is not one he does." Mexico still regretted screaming that to Antonio at least, war or not, the Spaniard had looked devastated. Even if most of Ibero America had ended shouting the words at him, it was not something a father, however distant, wishes or grows used to. She had only seen Chile and Brazil drunk once, and had no wish to hear that kind of self hate again. "Really, how would you feel if Canada told you he regrets being your brother? I'm sure Arthur wasn't exactly having fun when he cleaned your nappies."

"He wasn't around often enough to have to." Alfred had turned a lovely crimson colour, probably embarrassed with the thought of anyone changing him. "Besides, it doesn't change the fact he is a crappy father."

"Can't be that bad if you are complaining to me while he is with all the others, buddy, but I will admit he is as clingy as Spain. At least he had the good sense to let the lot go before things got ugly."

"They are just a bunch of mama boys... and girls." Fiji wouldn't want to be called a boy after all, nor would Seychelles and the other dozen girls. Keeping track of who was or had been under Arthur's care was a nightmare. "Besides, he only threats me bad... And Peter."

"Well, you have a way to annoy people, so does Peter for the matter. But really, you like bringing it on, don't act like the victim here." Alfred scratched his head sheepishly, the tension slowly leaving the room as he did. The nation had began to calm down, more willing to listen to others as he sat down on the couch beside her, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Alfred, you know all of this and no amount of excuses are going to erase the fact you feel guilty about it."

"... Why do I have to feel guilty? It's true I'm not the only one at fault here..." The raven haired girl sighed, gathering the other in a louse hug. Really, sometimes she felt more like the boy's mother than sister. Except the place was already token... And she was really gland she never got to change those nappies. "It's not fair..."

"Nothing is fair in love and war. You care about the dude, you feel guilty when you hurt him. He might not always act properly, but that is not excuse for you to copy him." The blond nodded, the Mexican pretending not to notice the sudden wetness in her shirt. "Look, go home and sleep on it. Tomorrow I'll go to check how things are on your old man house. You are going to have to beg for this one so better prepare your ego for the blow."

"You are so mean..."

"Yeah, that's me, now off you go cowboy." Alfred was nearly gone when she demanded the distance enough to shout after him. "You own me a beer!"

* * *

"Look, I am this close to guttering you, but won't cause the idiot would still morn you so let's do this quickly." Portugal was generally a soft spoken woman who liked to spend her time out doors or at the sea. She had also been big at one point, and was not above a little violence to settle things. Especially after seeing Arthur bowling for hours before the nation closed off. It was safe to say she was not a happy camper at the moment. "And if you screw this one I hand you to Lovino's men or to China for some training. Hell, even Spain would be gland to help at the moment."

Alfred gulped but nodded resolutely when Mexico pinched his arm. India was staring disapprovingly at him from her perch on the Portuguese coach. When Mexico had gone to check on things at Arthur's house, she had found the nation locked in his room and a group of murderous countries on the sitting room. Canada had informed her then that his father refused to see anyone after breaking down on the world meeting, embarrassed at his lost of control.

When Carmela had tried to leave, however, Consuelo and Akshaya had stopped her, asking the nation to bring Alfred over to the Portuguese's house. Since the male would need all the, unwilling, help he could get, the Mexican country agreed and dragged the male over with her. The man had protested, but finally agreed that he did need help and was currently sweating under the combined scorch of the two females' glare.

"Now." India started, voice rich like honey as she drunk calmly from her cup. "Normally I wouldn't interfere with this, but since Arthur seems to care for you I will."

"If we leave the two of you alone you wouldn't talk in a hundred years, and I had enough with that the last time." Portugal continued smartly, sipping gently from her own cup. It had been Consuelo who introduced the British man to the beverage when his king had married her princess, a taste they shared to this day. "So let's get to business shall we?"

"Hum, sure." Alfred gulped, feeling like a mouse locked in a room with two snakes, two particularly vicious ones. "So, hum, what do I do?"

"Well, first you are going to do something with that hair." Akshaya commanded. "Next you are going to buy a proper suit, you need to look like a proper gentleman when you apologize."

"Buy a bouquet of flowers, and for God's sake, only purple Hyacinths, I don't want you accidentally insulting, confessing or causing any other kind of mishap, understood?" Portugal waited until USA nodded his understanding before continuing. "You are taking him out to something he enjoys, a concert, to a museum, medieval fair, a walk around the Buckingham Palace's gardens maybe."

"Then you are going to take him to a proper British dinner, and you are going to pay for it all. And you will not insult him, behave inappropriately or spoilt the night in any way or I am going to make you regret it. Understood?" Alfred nodded furiously as the Indian woman fingered her bhuj treatingly. The nation was sure he was not going to survive this without some mental scars of his own.

* * *

Arthur sighed as he half heartily fixed himself in front a mirror, a fairy giggling on his shoulder as another commented on how handsome he looked. The nation had no wish to go out at the moment, but Canada had bought him tickets to the Royal Ballet and he hated to disappoint his Canadian son. So he had put on the suit his brother set out for him and allowed the welsh man to comb his hair and generally treat him as his own personal doll.

When the bell rung it was only Iain intervention that saved Alfred's face from meeting with the door, the redhead glaring daggers at the younger male as he pushed his younger sibling firmly out the house. The British nation accepted the flowers half heartily, handing the bouquet to his brother before following Alfred to the car. He signaled the driver and the pair was off, England keeping his face carefully blank as they did.

"I am to believe Matthew had a hand with this?" USA nodded nervously, his brother had been hesitant to help him, but he had always been the good son in the end. The Canadian had warned him that he would castrate him if he screwed things up though. Arthur scrutinied him for a moment before turning to look out the window, shin resting absently on his palm. Alfred almost wished his, sort of, father would rave instead, the cold fury and muted indifference worst than any insult the male would had dish out.

The two rode the rest of the way in silence, the driver opening the door for the North American nation, who in turn opened England's door. The blond nodded his thanks, inspecting the building mutedly as Alfred twisted his gloved hands. It's a place he knows well and he wonders why the other brought him here when he made it so clear he didn't wish to have anything to do with him.

Alfred gulped, but handed his tickets to a young girl who led them to their seats, Arthur nodding approvingly at their location. From their balcony they could not only see the whole stage, but also most of the public underneath. When the girl returned USA ordered a bottle of wine, the British nation sipping slowly at his drink as his companion continued to sweat. Thankfully, Alfred was saved from farther discomfort as the lights turned off, only the stage's soft light illuminating them.

After the ballet's name was announced and the first suit commenced, the younger male could feel the eyes peering at him curiously, but he forced himself to keep his attention firmly on the action before him. It was one he know the other enjoyed, ever since Francis took the four of them to see it in his theater many years ago. The mixture of technique, folk beliefs and simple but tragic tale never failed to drew the nation in.

As the drama unfolded underneath them, the tension diminished between them, Arthur slowly losing the edge in his eyes as he observed Giselle die, Hilarion whitered and drowned in the lake, the Willis dance in hypnotive fashion around a mourning Albrecht. The nation smirked as the Queen appeared, nodded approvingly as Berthe warned her daughter, and shock his head resignedly at Bathilde and Wilfred. Alfred, who couldn't keep nervous eyes of the country, fervently hoped the other's motions were of approval.

Once the show ended, the two were taken to the backstage, where Arthur complimented the dancers and the director warmly. While they didn't know they were speaking to their home country, humans always reacted strongly to their present, the group reacting like they had received praise from the Queen herself. As it was, the troupe thanked them profusely, even giving the British male a signed program and some free tickets so he would came again.

By the time the two entered the fancy restaurant Alfred booked a table at, Arthur was visibly more relaxed, mouth no longer a thing line in his face, eyes no longer thigh with distaste. The two enjoyed their dinner in silence, only muttered pleasantries breaking the quiet between them. The younger male made sure to be in his best behaviour, right fork in his hand, chewing slowly on food and never an unpleasant comment in his tongue. Alfred was sure he noticed the impressed glint on the British forest green gaze, but wisely keep it to himself.

The house was dark as the two nations exited the car, Alfred fidgeting nervously as Arthur stared at him for a moment before inviting him in. The driver was sent away then, the North American nation lead silently to the British's study. Arthur served them both a drink, Alfred almost choking on it due to his nerves. He tried to speak but the older male silenced him, facing away from him as he spoke.

"Alfred." And the boy couldn't help the instinctive gulp, a instinct all former British Colonies shared when they heard that particular tone. "I do have to say I… enjoyed myself tonight. Thank you."

"Eh, you are welcome." He wasn't sure if it was the correct thing to say but nothing else came to mind at the moment.

"You better spend the night here, the guest room should be serviceable." England gazed at his glass for a second before setting it down. "Good night."

"Ah… Good Night." The blond sighed, almost melting on his seat when the other male left the room, his body feeling stiff with the tension he had been feeling the whole evening. But at least Arthur had invited him back to the house, surely he had accepted his apology? "Good Night… mom."

If Arthur minded the disturbance a few hours later he didn't voice it, simply moving to the side and allowing the shaking nation to his bed, patting his back comfortingly. Aeron was gracious enough to feed the North American nation before kicking him out after finding him in his brother's bed. The nations kept a close eye on him for the coming months, a warning glint on their eyes whenever Alfred so much as looked at Arthur.

Alfred was almost gland when the next disaster shock the Kirkland household, at least it drew their attention of himself.

* * *

Author's Notes: Mexico, a.k.a Carmela Fabiola García López is slightly older than Matthew and Alfred. While she tries to be the sane (wo)man, she can be as childish as USA, leaving Canada to clean after the pair. Alfred and her get into a lot of fights due to the illegal border crossing, but since he loves her cooking he forgives her. As mentioned here, she is the one to listen to Alfred's rants after his fights with Canada, England and France, since it's only the three of them living in the north and they should try to not blow the house up. Things were tense after the Texas affair, but they have patched their relationship for the most part, having to deal with each other all the time forced them too, unlike things with England, since they can easily avoid each other.

While there are still some bitterness between them, being a colony is never pretty, Arthur's children are in good terms with him since he let them go peacefully, unlike Alfred, which is partly the reason England and USA are so bitter about the whole thing. Also, they behave like children, which means they do want mommy England attention on them and are quick to grew jealous of each other. Also, England patched things with Japan after the war and Portugal is his oldest ally.

Portugal a.k.a Consuelo Anabel Oliveira Amil is around the same age than Antonio. She is generally soft spoken and spends more time on the sea than in the country itself, Arthur joining her when he can. Even before the signing of the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance the two had been friends, Arthur fleeing there when his brothers grew particularly infuriating. Since England risked his neck for Portugal in the past, the woman is fiercely protective of him, and is not above showing her 'brothers' how she became a conquistador herself.

During various points on history, almost the whole American continent shouted variants of what Alfred said to Antonio, the results the same, even if it was only after the battle. Since Spain often left the children from the south in Chile and Brazil custody, they too got the hear it, and are still a bit bitter about it, especially since they have the best economy which brings plenty of envy. And that they are convinced Chile wants to start another war (We are to lazy to even think of it really...).

Also, in my mind, Brazil, Chile and some others are way older than the rest since Portugal and Spain never really conquered them.

And before I forget, Egil is my name for Iceland, Hemming is Norway, Sigurðr is Denmark and Carlos Acedo Cantos is Cuba. If you are wondering why the Scandinavian nations don't have surnames is because you use your mother or father names as a surname in Iceland and I haven't found any good ones for the other two.


	6. Kanata

I was done with this last night but was dead on my feet. I hope this is somewhat similar to what you wanted… Oh, I used a French translator so please forgive me for all mistakes… I would be gland if anyone could correct it…

* * *

Kanata

_Je suis désolé Mathieu..._

The man's face kept his face carefully blank as he lead a little blond kid by the hand across the plain. The boy was shivering, hugging a polar bear cub tightly to himself as they approached the unforgiving figure at the top of the hill. The breeze was harsh, bushes dancing in the air as the sky kept the sun hidden. A feathered hat kept what light light there was away from the man's face.

_Mais il n'y a rien que je puisse faire._

The pair stopped shortly before the man and the boy was finally able to see the face of the one who would take him away from everything he had ever known. Sharp forest green eyes, dark and thick eyebrows, a smirk of one who knew himself powerful, who had proven himself so.

_Vous devez être forts, oui?_

His brother handed him without comment, the English man wrapping his strong calloused hand around his soft one. Soon the boy was pulled away from his brother, silent tears running down his face. The nation ignored it, a carriage waiting for them at the road side. The coachman opened the door for them, the blond man always keeping his eyes on the boy at all times.

_Adieu, mon cher.

* * *

_

"Welcome to your knew home." The nation, his brother had said his name was Angleterre, stated, sitting behind a heavy desk. Mathieu was standing, his polar bear crouched beside him, the man not even sparing a glance to the dangerous creature. "From now on your name will be Matthew. You shall not speak a word of French unless with a diplomatic, a governess was already been hired to instruct you in your studies."

The boy didn't answer, bitting his lip furiously as he glared at the floor, knuckles white as he tried to held back bitter tears. "Well? Speak boy." The man prompted, a single eyebrow raised as he scrutinized the boy.

"_Je ne serai jamais une colonie anglaise!" _

The English man stood, not even pausing when his bear lunged, the animal yelping piteously when he was struck on the nose. The colony covered, eyes full of fear, as the nation picked him up and a hand hit him firmly on his behind, cold voice murmuring in his ear. "You will do well to remember you are no longer French boy, it will make things easier for you."

When the boy laid curled in his new bed on the strange room he had been given he cried, bitter tears that only served to leave his eyes red and heart wretched.

* * *

"Master Kirkland, young Master refuses to leave his room." Arthur sighed, his break of fast growing cold before his eyes. With a grunt, the lord of the house rose, waving the man aside when he moved to pick the dishes.

"Never mind them, they will be long cold when I return." The nation made his way silently to his new colony room, finding it in total disarray and the boy gone. After a bit of searching he found the blond in the closet, bear snuggled to his legs as the kid dosed. "Pray tell what is the meaning of this?"

The boy glared, the bear growling as well. Arthur crossed his arms for a second, then closed the wardrobe, a childish cry ringing from within. The man held the door closed for a few minutes then let the child out, the boy crying as he dashed out, clutching to the dosel of his bed fearfully. "I'm quite sure Francis didn't enforce such behaviour, as uncivilized as he can be. Should I ever find you there again I will leave you inside for the rest of the day, understood?"

Mathieu nodded, rubbing his eyes furiously with his hands. His nightgown was filthy, hair a rat nest and eyes bloody from crying, the boy was truly a sight. "Come, I will change you to more appropriate clothes before we eat." The colony wanted to protest, but a glare silenced him and soon he was dressed in a new nightgown, this one of English made. The boy stared fearfully as the nation held his former wear, a look of distaste firmly on his face. "I should throw this to the fire... But I think if the maids can clean it you may keep it. You will, however, clean this mess first."

The boy sighed in relief, not protesting this time as the man dragged him out the room and down the stairs. He did pause when a maid presented him a plate full of strange food. Arthur was sipping from a cup, no longer hungry for food as the boy stared at his. "What is the matter now?"

"_Je ne mange pa- _I do no eat England food." The boy stared at his lap as the nation stared him, startling when a hand lifted his shin. The house staff turned to watch elsewhere as the country stared down his colony, purple eyes growing watery again.

"You will have to learn then." The nation filled a spoon with warm oatmeal, but as soon as the soon left the boy's mouth he spitted it back out, gagging at the taste. "Very well, if you shall not eat the food provided you will have to do without."

Mathieu was left looked in his room for a week before the colony finally conceded to eat his Master's food.

* * *

"Master Kirkland, young Master is missing!" A maid burst in his study, and Arthur considered scowling him before shocking his head, he could let it pass this time.

"Where was he last?" The country inquired, checking his revolver and the dagger he kept on his boot. If the colony was gone he probably was trying to get back to France.

"In his room, my lord." And sure enough, the window was open, snow already drenching the floor. Two maids stood on the room, shivering, form the cold or in fear he did not know.

"Fetch my horse and I alert the guards." Soon a party of five was gathered, the men shivering under the assault of the wind as the country stood straight beside his mount. "The boy can't be far, he will kept to the side of the road, under the trees' cover."

The party rode out the house, each men holding a torch on their hands. The path was dark and night was not far off, Arthur knew he didn't have much time until he had to send the humans back. A nation or colony could stand the cold, but the men were already half frozen as they were. He couldn't risk their lives, but he would prefer to find the boy tonight.

"Master Kirkland! Young Master's pet!" A man shouted and soon the party was chasing after the boy. Arthur grunted when one of the raider fell of his horse, signaling a second to check on him. They were almost out the woods that surrounded the house when the nation lunged, the kid crying out as he found himself pinned to the ground.

"So, we refuse to stay in the house, do we?" Mathieu squirmed, trying to break free, but a harsh slap stopped his wiggling. "You will stop this at once unless you would like a polar bear cape!"

The bear whimpered, the boy freezing as the nation picked him up. England placed him on his horse and the party rode back, where Arthur threw the boy to the horse shed upon arrival. "You will stay here until the morning." The boy bit his lip as he was tied to a post, his bear yowling as he was carried away.

On the morning, Mathieu tasted for the first time the taste of a ridding whip on his back, five lashes for the broken leg the man suffered from his fall.

* * *

"Master Kirkland, the boy refuses to follow my instructions. I fear there is little I can teach him this way." Arthur was growing tired of the colony's constant defiance, be it big or small. At least he hadn't tried to escape again or refuse his food after the first time and at least in his presence he only spoke in broken English. But he refused to speak with the helping staff and preferred to stare blankly at his tutor.

"Matthew, you will cease this foolishness this moment." The boy grumbled, but at the warning glint on the nation's eyes nodded slowly. "Very well then, you two may carry on."

Arthur nearly screamed when the man come back five minutes later because while boy now head his words, but refused to speak a single one. In the end, Matthew was send up without dinner since he refused to utter a single word during the rest of the lesson.

"Matthew, you need to stop this." The boy was snuggled in his bed, his pet already sleep in front the fire. "You are only making this harder on yourself." Mathieu shock his head, purple eyes fixed on his blanket. "Tell me boy, why do you refuse to speak?"

"_Ca- _Because I do not like English." The boy shock, body stiff as he waited to be struck, but the country shock his head at him.

"Then you must learn to like it then." Arthur ignored the look of disbelief the colony sent him. "Until you do, the staff will be forbidden to speak with you. The house will receive no guest until you learn to behave properly." And the kid started to protest then, for there was one man he desired to see above else. "There will be no changes until you learn you place boy."

* * *

The room was dark, the only light coming from the hearth as the two men drunk in front the head. "Why do you refuse to let me see the boy?" One of the men glared at the other, wavy blond hair pulled back from ice blue eyes. "I looked after him first."

"And now you lost him, he is under the crown's rule now." The French men glared, hand clutching his glass tightly as the English man rose to pour himself new one. "Nothing good would come from such a meeting."

"Nothing good? Arthur, the boy is not a bargain chip!" Francis protested hotly, almost sending his seat crashing to the floor in his indignation. "Surely you understand this?"

"And what good would that be? The boy was been leaving with me for months and still refuse to speak to anyone but myself." England stopped to empty his glass, smashing it on the table beside the now empty crystal bottle. "He is still waiting for you to come for him and we both know that is not happening Francis."

"But surely I can see him, at least once?" France hated to pled to the other, but his love for the boy drove him on. "surely a small meeting wouldn't hurt?"

"Francis, you know the ways he have to double a territory to our will." And Francis did know, for he had once used them on the nation before him, once when he had been the unruly one. But England had been harder than Kanata, never giving in no matter what the French did to him. "Unless you wish for me to try them on him you will wait."

"I... I just want to see him again." The blond whispered, his companion pretending not to hear it. "He was my brother first... _Mon petit garçon précieux..._"

* * *

"Well Matthew, I must say I am impressed." The boy grinned, clad in his summer clothes as his tutor stood behind him nodding approvingly. The colony had cracked after two months of loneliness, and by now would carry full conversations with his teachers as well as the house staff. Arthur, who understood the need of a nation to be near people, had ignored his unorthodox behaviour, instead bringing the boy small gifts as praises.

"The boy is quite intelligent my Lord, once he applied himself." Matthew blushed, but giggled when Arthur ruffed his hair. "May I be excused?"

"Of course." England smiled as he picked the boy up, colony giggling as he was thrown into the air and caught in strong arms. "Well, since you have been so good I think I may be able to take you in a small trip, shall I?"

"A trip? Where to?" The colony inquired, childish voice soft, an habit he would probably never break free of after spending so much time silent. The boy had grown used to been quiet and Arthur admitted that it was a refreshing thing when he came from visiting Alfred from the south. It was not that he preferred one to the other, it was simply that each one brought a different kind of warm to his heart. "Arthur?"

"You will see, won't you?" The kid pouted, causing the older male to give a bark of laughing at his expense. "Ah, boy, I'm sure you will quite enjoy it."

* * *

Matthew stared at the man he hadn't seen in four years, purple eyes misting as the male laughed and opened his arms. "Francis!" The colony shouted, leaping in to the French embrace. "Francis!"

"_Mathieu, vous avez tellement grandi!_" The French man declared, rubbing his nose against the colony. "_Ce barbare a été bien vous traiter?_"

"Ah..." Matthew hesitated, glancing at Arthur unsurely. "I..."

"Oh, you may speak with him in his beastly language my boy, but only for today." The boy smiled, before breaking in to a fast account of all the things that had transpired to him on the last years. Francis had been exchanging letters with Arthur about it, but still listened with rapt attention at the boy as he held him, hugging him tightly to himself.

"_Mon Dieu, Arthur, comment pourriez-vous être si mal pour un garçon doux?_"

"_Oh, mon petit chou, tu es trop drôle."_

"_Ne vous avisez pas de le faire jamais que de nouveau, ne vous entendez-moi jeune homme?" _

Arthur shock his head as Francis continued to comment of his ex colony's adventures, now comfortably seated on a sofa as the English went over some documents. The French would stay a week with them, a gift to the boy for finally mastering his third language. England had deemed him ready, partly to shut France up, after a year of completely good behaviour on his part.

He hoped to take him with him to Alfred's house within the year next, finally to meet the less rebellious twin, a impossible thought but a scarce two years ago. While it had took him two years to force Matthew to accept his new status, the boy had took an extra one to fully assimilate his culture. The last year had been spend in drilling him in basic etiquette, something he still fought with Alfred about, and learning Portuguese.

"_Arthur, je dois insister dans la cuisine ce soir, je suis sûr que Mathieu manquez mes plats deliceuos._"

"What are you implying fro-France?"

"_Que vous essayez d'empoisonner le pauvre garçon, bien sûr._" Matthew wondered why his brother was covering his ears as Arthur shock a fist at him.

* * *

England was smiling gently at the other boy, laughing as he complained about something or another. Canada scowled, he had been the sole receiver of Arthur's attention for the last five years, France dropping frequently during the last one. Blinking furiously, tears gathered on his eyes, and soon there were drops falling down his face. "Matthew, is something the matter?"

The concerned nation picked the boy up, bear and all, and patted him comfortingly on the back. Canada snuggled contently on his chest, hiding his satisfied smirk on the man's clothes as Alfred pouted from the floor. "Iggy! You said you would cook something for me!"

"Ah, I am deeply sorry Alfred, I will go ask the cook immediately." But to the toddler's frustration, his older brother didn't put the other boy down when he began to walk toward the kitchen.

"Iggy!" But Arthur ignored him, cleaning the other colony's face gently with a handkerchief. The boy had gone red from anger by now, and stomped furiously on the floor. "IGGY!"

"Alfred, mind your manners! Or would you prefer to not eat supper tonight?" The colony gasped at that, shacking his head furiously. "That's what I thought."

The boy scowled when the nation turned his back at him, glaring daggers at the colony who smiled smugly from his older brother's shoulder. This meant war.

* * *

"Iggy! Look at this!" Alfred skipped toward his caretaker, a piece of paper on his hands. "Look! Look!"

"Oh, that is a very good painting Alfred." The colony grinned as the older nation patted his head, turning side ways to smirk at a disgruntled Matthew who had yet to finish his own work. "Where you we keep this one?"

"Will you put it in your study?" Arthur chuckled, nodding as the boy cheered loudly, a bunny hopping beside him. "But first we must wait for it to dry, yes?"

"Yeah!" Alfred grinned, putting his finished work on top the desk before hopping of his stool. "Iggy, let's go play outside!"

"My boy, we must wait for Matthew to finish." The kid grumbled but nodded, the other boy producing his own masterpiece shortly to be admired by the older male. The nation then made them wash themselves, and the trio spend the rest of the day playing outside, the twins trying to hog the older male's attention as much as inhumanly possible.

"Oh my." Alfred gapped as his guardian picked up his overturned picture, image completely destroyed. "I swear I closed the window before leaving..."

"Maybe a maid opened it?" Matthew whispered from behind him, purple eyes twinkling as his brother glared at him. "Arthur?"

"Hum, maybe..." When England entered the painting room the next day, he found the window once again open, this time Matthew's work completely ruined. He decided to lock himself in his room shortly after lunch, the colonies impossible to deal with for the rest of the day.

* * *

The French nation grinned as he tiptoed in to the room, Arthur shaking his head gently as first Alfred, the Matthew noticed the man. Francis was fully using the opportunity to spoil both kids since he wasn't the one responsible for them. "_Et comment sont mes petits garçons, aujourd'hui?_"

"Francis!" Alfred whinnied, still unable to understand a word of French. Arthur had decided the boy would learn Portuguese first but the boy had only recently taken real interest in it.

"Ah, _mon petit chou_, you are adorable." The younger male giggled as he was picked up, the French man nuzzling his head affectionally. Mathew tugged at the man's pants, blinking wide purple eyes until Francis picked him up too. "Oh, I could eat you two."

"I want to play with him! Can we, Iggy? Can we?" The southern colony begged, his northern twin nodding as his pet began to tug at the French's pants

"Very well, but you must clean this first." The twins moaned as England pointed to the disaster zone the two had left after them. What he didn't know was that most of it was due to Canada trying to bury his older brother under a mountain of books, said boy retailing by trying to shave his pet. "Now boys."

"Well, what do you two say about eating a delicious French meal?" France grinned when the two boys cheered, quickly moving to put away their things. "They are such wonderful boys."

"You say that because you don't have to deal with them every day." Arthur snapped, rubbing his shoulder as he did. Alfred had used him as a jumping board yesterday when his twin set a elk after him. The colony had been punished for it, but it was not very effective when the Canadian had charmed the house staff into thinking he was an angel. England sometimes wondered if the world was bloody blind. "MATTHEW, PUT THAT OUT THE HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"

Matthew smiled innocently at Francis when the man turned, his brother smiling dangerously at him when Alfred saw what was in his hand. When the man turned to talk to the English man Canada used the opportunity to threw the giant spider out the window. Well, Arthur hadn't found the frog under his bed yet.

* * *

Alfred sulked as Manoel stared as his older sister bounced the boy on her knee. Arthur was busy looking for some documents and since Matthew had only recently recovered from a cold he had been left under her care. The southern colony grumbled, it was not fair that Matthew got all the attention just because he spend a few days as a tomato! "Hey, are you going to let them ignore us?"

"Hum? I don't see anything wrong with it..." Brazil muttered, relaxing on the comfortable chair his caretaker had left him on. Alfred snorted, then smiled brightly and walked toward his aunt with his best angelic expression.

"Auntie! Auntie!" Consuelo humoured the small boy, awkwardly holding the two on her lap. "Tell us where have you been! Iggy said you had an adventure!"

"Oh, did he now?" Brazil moved to sit on the floor in front his older sister's chair, dark brown eyes gazing curiously at her. "My, I'm sure he exaggerated Alfred."

"I did no such thing." Arthur defended himself as he placed a tray with tea and scones on a low table. "I heard you landed on a rather perilous position."

"Arthur, you shouldn't believe all you hear."

"Of course, my lady." Consuelo laughed softly, accepting the kiss to her palm good naturally as the three kids mock gagged. The laugh turned in to a cry when Alfred suddenly fell from her grasp, the woman breathing out relieved when Arthur caught the falling colony before he met the floor, "Oh God, I'm so sorry!"

"Are you all right my boy?"

"Does it hurt any where?"

"Alfred?"

"Al?"

Manoel patted the back of a fuming Matthew as the two boys were ignored for the rest of the afternoon as the two adults fuzzed over a grinning Alfred.

* * *

England was enjoying a peaceful evening with a novel when he suddenly found himself out of breath. "Al-Alfred!"

"Iggy! What are you reading? Is it good? Will you read it for me? Iggy! Iggy!" Arthur sighed as his colony continued to whine his name, the racket attracting a curious Canada to the room.

"Arthur?" The colony approached the pair, polar bear trailing behind him. "Are you going to read for us?"

England sighed, putting his book away before picking another well read one, unable to resist the two boys at once. Thankfully, the two rarely agreed on things, something that never stopped to puzzle him, but only had once came to blows. "Very well, what should I read tonight?"

"Anthousa the Fair with Golden Hair!" Alfred cried excitedly.

"But.. but he read that last time! Can we hear _La finta nonna_, please?"

"No! The Rider Of Grianaig!"

"Three Little Pigs!"

"The Twelve Wild Ducks!"

Arthur wondered if staying away from Scotland, Ireland and Wales was worth all this.

* * *

Portugal a.k.a Consuelo Anabel Oliveira Amil is around the same age than Antonio. She is generally soft spoken and spends more time on the sea than in the country itself, Arthur joining her when he can. Even before the signing of the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance the two had been friends, Arthur fleeing there when his brothers grew particularly infuriating. Since England risked his neck for Portugal in the past, the woman is fiercely protective of him, and is not above showing her 'brothers' how she became a conquistador herself.

Eduardo Manoel Couto Figueira a.k.a Brazil is one of her colonies, which she is quite affectionate with. Manoel is one of the two nation tans of Brazil, his older brother Manítse dealing more with Spain and his colonies than Portugal. The man, here boy, tends to be easy going, but very perceptive and sly when the need arise. Nowadays he is trying to make a name of himself around the world, and at the same time trying to convince his neighbour he is not trying to expand his territory. He gets along with the Chilean twins and has a decent relationship with Uruguay.

I think is not so much that Canada doesn't screw around but that the country covers after itself better and is way more polite than USA about it. My head canon says that France didn't spent as much time as England taking personal care of his colonies, so he tend to be more of a doting Uncle than a father. England and Portugal are more used to actually dealing with the brat, which makes them less likely to fell for their innocent expressions.

What I tried to pass as French:

Je suis désolé Mathieu.: I'm sorry Mathieu.

Mais il n'y a rien que je puisse faire.: But there is nothing I can do.

Vous devez être forts, oui?: You must be strong, yes?

Adieu, mon cher.: Good bye, my dear one.

Je ne serai jamais une colonie anglaise! : I will never be a English colony!

Je ne mange pa-: I don't ea-

Ca- : Becau-

Mon petit garçon précieux. : My precious little boy.

Mathieu, vous avez tellement grandi. Mathieu, you have grown so much.

Ce barbare a été bien vous traiter? : Has this barbarian been threating you well?

Mon Dieu, Arthur, comment pourriez-vous être si mal pour un garçon doux? : My God, Arthur, how could you be so evil to such a sweet boy?

Oh, mon petit chou, tu es trop drôle. : Oh, my little cabbage, you are too funny.

Ne vous avisez pas de le faire jamais que de nouveau, ne vous entendez-moi jeune homme? : Don't you dare to ever do that again, do you hear me young man?

Arthur, je dois insister dans la cuisine ce soir, je suis sûr que Mathieu manquez mes plats deliceuos. : Arthur, I must insist in cooking tonight, I'm sure Mathieu miss my deliceuos dishes.

Que vous essayez d'empoisonner le pauvre garçon, bien sûr. : That you are trying to poison the poor boy, of course.

Et comment sont mes petits garçons, aujourd'hui? : And how are my little boys today?

La finta nonna. : The false Grandmother.


	7. Give us plenty, give us peace

Author's Notes: Because nothing is a better bonding experience than dealing with your colonies' pets. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Akshaya, Alex and Chris belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them. Portugal is mine.

* * *

Give us plenty, give us peace

Arthur groaned when he heard the door open, burring his head under the pillow. Due to his last war with France, he had caught a rather bad cold and had been confined to bed by his brothers. Thankfully, India and Wales were keeping most of them entertained so he could rest but there were only so many sprogs they could keep an eye on. He really needed to stop expanding his empire...

Scratch that, what he needed to do was find a competent army of nannies. Preferably ones who knew how to shot at Frenchmen at sight.

When the footsteps stopped, England removed his head under the pillow to look at the auburn haired boy. Alexander was the colony who resembled him most in temperament, to the point that Sean had once insinuated he had had an affair with someone. Arthur had responded by knocking some of his teeth out. It had took Ireland nearly a year to regrew the missing teeth.

The dirty blond grunted but pulled the covers back, the boy climbing silently and snuggled contently against his chest. Arthur could feel himself growing sleepier and closed his eyes, the two nations falling sleep as blessed silence covered the house. The fairies around them giggled softly at the scene and left the room silently to their rest, golden dust shinning in the dark.

The quiet is shattered when a second child opened the door, much lest silently than his fellow nation. Arthur growled from the bed, Alexander groaning as Christopher peered over the edge of the bed. "Alex! Have you seen my koala?" England winced when the boy shouted, loudly one may add.

"Idiot! Mom is sick!" New Zealand chastised him softly, trying to not aggravate Arthur's headache. "Go away!"

"But!"

"Damned sprogs… Chris, did you ask Aeron or Akshaya for help?" The older man interrupted, knowing he would have no peace until the younger boy was satisfied. "And Alex, I'm not your bloody mother."

"Uncle Aeron is making dinner and Auntie Akshaya said she was busy making sure Uncle Sean didn't kill one of us in despair." The boy recited, probably India had made him memorise it before sending him to his room.

"And Iain?"

"Uncle Iain ain't home yet!"

"Figures." England groaned, rising to his feet while his head screamed in protest. He had to pause as the world spun around him but after a few minutes where the colonies watched him concerned he nodded, delicately. "Well, come along then. No sense in wasting time."

"But mom, you are suppose to rest!" Alex protested, tugging his sleeve as he did. Arthur patted his head comfortingly, wincing at the corridor's lights when he exited his dark room.

"I'll be fine Alex, thank you for your concern... Where is your Kiwi anyways?" The blasted bird was nearly as much troublesome as the missing bear after all.

"I left it with Matthew."

"I didn't see it with him." Christopher informed causing Arthur to groan. Figures, he now had two missing murderous creatures in the house. Two murderous creatures that were probably trying to kill each other at the moment.

They searched the house mostly in silence, Arthur too tired to chat while Alex glared at anything that Chris said. England was about to suggest they move to another side of the mansion when he heard a noise. The trio followed it to a room the older male swore was suppose to be locked. When he fished the key out his pocket and turned it, the lock clicked as the door was pushed open to reveal pure and unaltered chaos.

The koala was running around as the kiwi tried to pierce his eyes, a mixture of growls and shrill cries making his headache skyrocket. He wanted to burst into tears as he saw what was left of a tapestry that had gave him Portugal, it had been the first one she produced back in the days they learned how to embroider. Antique paintings, a destroyed sculpture, overturned furniture, nothing had been safe.

"FREO!" Australia roared, diving to grave his pet, New Zealand hot on his heels. "Oh my god, look at what you did!"

"I'm so sorry mom!" Alex cried, tears gathering in his eyes as he held his struggling companion down. "I didn't, I left him, oh god, I'm so sorry! Aunt Consuelo will be furious!"

"Ah, don't worry, I'm sure she will understand..." Or at least commiserate with him. One of her colonies, Angola he believed, had destroyed a doll he had made for Portugal centuries ago. "Come on, let's get you ready for dinner."

Both boys nodded, looking ready to burst into tears at the first sign of anger on his part. England lead them to the main wing of the house, pausing on a bathroom for the kids to watch their hands. The pets had calmed down by now, sensing their owners' unhappiness with them. When they entered the room only Iain was present, the man removing his jacket before sitting heavily on an armchair.

The man scowled as he noticed them, concerned eyes on the figure of his pale husband as the kids walked silently next to him. "Arthur, shouldn't you be in be- OH MY GOD, ARTHUR!"

Arthur groaned, his legs turning into jelly underneath him as he went crushing into the ground, colonies freezing as they entered behind Aeron. The man cursed as his older brother picked the nation up, ordering the children to find Akshaya and Sean while they moved Arthur back to his room. The Ionian Islands left running as the rest of the colonies created a general ruckus, only quieting down when Matthew threatened to lock them in their rooms. The children settled down at the teenager's threat and Iain was able to take the unconscious man to his room.

The house was in general disarray during the two weeks it took England to get back to his feet, Wales coming quite close to fulfilling the English old desire to make Koala pie with Kiwi chips.

* * *

Author's Notes: Don't worry Arthur, cats are worse, be gland you only own one.


	8. An Evening by the Hearth

Author's Notes: Because we all know Norway's face is scary. I own Norway, Denmark and Iceland's names.

* * *

An evening by the Hearth

Arthur snuggled into Sigurðr's arms, his self proclaimed father depositing the boy safely on his mattress. His 'uncle' Egil, the boy looked hardly four years older to his meager seven, was already in. Arthur sighed contently as he wrapped his arms around him, unused to the cold Icelandic temperature. Denmark grinned, ruffling his hair before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't see why this is necessary." Ylba stated, twisting her long blond hair into a plait. "Is not like they are truly children."

"Ah, come on Norwe~ This is for our little child!" Arthur scowled at the little part, but otherwise stared expectantly at Sigurðr. The boy didn't really understand why the Norwegian woman treated him like a mistress's offspring or something, especially since the mistress would be his uncle Sweden. Sadly for the little blond, his 'mother' was off somewhere with the Finnish man who lived with them, so he was forced to receive his bedtime story from his other parents. "Of course, he will enjoy anything I tell him more."

"Give don't you give him some Mead as well?"

"Ain't it a little late?"

"When has that ever stop you?"

"Oh, come on Norwe~"

"Weren't you going to tell Arthur a story?" Egil interrupted before they really got in to it. "Sister?"

"See Ylba, see? Now what story should I tell you..." Norway groaned but finally sat down on an armchair, muttering darkly about 'idiot husbands' and 'why did she had to look after other people brats'. "How about the story were Sigurðr killed Fafnir?"

"And you have no ulterior motive to tell it I'm sure." The woman stated when she saw Arthur perking up at the older male's name.

"Uh? I think he will like it! Do you want to hear it Arthur?"

"Aye!" Denmark grinned as the child cheered, Iceland complaining that he was trying to fell sleep.

"Soo~ Sigurðr is living with King Regin after his mother married another man. The King's uncle, you see, was very good at swimming and he used to swim at the Andvari's waterfall, Andvari was a dwarf by the way. The Æsir saw him one day and one of them, Loki, killed him because they thought he was an Otter."

"Was he a shapeshifter like Miss Ylba?"

"Probably... You really don't have to call her that kid. She is your mom now!" After Denmark had extracted himself from Norway's hold, England swearing in his mind to never call the woman mother, the Danish continued. "Anyways, they took him to his brother house to display it. He recognized him and demanded compensation; they had to stuff the body with gold and cover the skin with jewels."

"But how would they use the gold? Wouldn't it be full of blood?"

"How do you think the skins are when we gut the animals? They had to clean him up first."

"Oh."

"SO! Loki caught the dwarf Andvari and took his gold and killed the dwarf because he wanted to take a ring with a curse that Andvari didn't want to give them. They put it on a whisker before handing over the body. Since Fafner, he was Regin other uncle, wanted the gold he killed Regin's father and transformed into a dragon to guard it."

"What kind of dragon?"

"Arthur."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it kid." Ylba by now had left the armchair and was snuggled into Sigurðr's chest. "Well, Sigurðr needed a sword so Regin made him one from the shards of Sigurðr's father's sword. Now, the gods were really interested on him so Odin, hiding as a old man, told him to dig a trench and bath on the blood of the dragon later. Dragon's blood gives invulnerability to humans you see."

"Regin then asked him to bring the heart of his uncle. However, when Sigurðr drunk some of the dragon's blood he gained the ability to speak with birds, who told him that Regin was trying to kill him. SO! Sigurðr went and cut the kind's head and then roasted the dragon's heart and ate it." Egil didn't know if Sigurðr noticed it, but his expression had turned a tad maniatic at this point of the tale.

"He then meet Brynhildr, a shieldmaiden like Norwe here. Sigurðr went to Gjúki's court her sister lived at." Arthur noticed that the pretty lady who had been tending to the fire during the evening had sat down to listen, shaking her head sadly when Brynhildr's name had came up. " Gjúki was married to Grimhild and they had four children, one of them a woman named Gudrun. Grimhild charmed Sigurðr to forget about the Valkyrie so he would marry her daughter."

"Why didn't the Valkyrie do something?"

"She didn't know kid. Think about what you, Egil and Ylba can do." Denmark ignored the rather creepy air that the room had gained at that point or the smug look in his companions' face. "Gudrun's bother, Gunnar, wanted to marry Brynhildr, but she said that she would marry only a person who could pass the fire that protected her bower. Since Sigurðr could do it, he disguised himself and won the Valkyrie for his brother in law."

"How did he do it? The fire?"

"He had a horse, Grani, that when Sigurðr rode him they could pass through flames."

"Isn't that the name of one of the horses at the shed?"

"Yeah." A pause. "You aren't allowed to play with him without either me or Norwe present."

"And Sweden?"

"No." A glare from Ylba stopped anymore questions. "Well, later Brynhildr bragged that she had a better husband to Gudrun who told her what had really happened. The Valkyrie was furious and decided to take revenge. She accused Sigurðr of doing something inappropriate to her... You will understand when you are older, kid. Anyway, Gunnar enchanted another of Gudrun's brothers, Guttorm, and he killed Sigurðr, Brynhildr killed their three year old son. She then built a funeral pyre and burner herself, Sigurðr, their son and Guttorm, Sigurðr killed him before dying."

"You idiot." Ylba grunted, seeing how green Arthur had turned by the end of the tale. "Does someone bathing in blood or burning themselves alive sound like a bed story to you?"

"What? I heard them all the time."

"... Just shut up you idiot, I will tell the brat a story so he falls sleep already." Norway shifted, getting on a more comfortable position on Denmark's lap and cleared her throat. "Now, no interruptions, you hear me?"

"Norwe! Be nice to the kid!"

"You are nice enough for both of us."

"So mean... I love you all the same."

"Stop that you idiot!" Ylba had turned a interesting shade of red as the couple fought between themselves.

"Can you do that somewhere else?" Egil snapped as he stared at the ceiling, covering Arthur's eyes with his hands.

"Sorry." A punch later and a whinnying Sigurðr later. "Once upon a time there was a king and queen who had a daughter dear to the whole kingdom, but when the child turned twelve years old the queen died. Before she did, she made her husband promise her to give the princess anything she wished for. The princess, who was lonely, asked her father to let a friend who lived nearby with her mother to move in the castle."

"Now, the king didn't want to, but the princess begged and begged until he allowed it. Things were fine for a while until the lady announced that she had to go in a journey with her daughter. The princess begged them to stay and the lady said the only way for them to was for her to marry the king. The princess then begged her father to marry the lady and since he had promised his dead wife to do everything she asked, he did."

"So the countess became Queen, but she soon turned spiteful toward her now step daughter, jealous because her own child was a stupid, ugly thing that would never inherit the kingdom. The king then decided to send the princess away to a castle he had build in an island in the middle of a lake. The girl, well placed, lived there for many years, growing more beautiful with each passing day."

"She kind of looked like Norwe, but she actually smiled." Denmark remarked, dodging a slap from his irate wife. "But Ylba is more beautiful of course!"

"I said shut up!" The Norwegian shouted, Sigurðr holding her down so that she didn't maim him in anyway. "Let me go you pervert!"

"Not until you calm down~"

"Miss Ylba, what happened then?"

"Bloody brat got gutted by a..." A pause. "The king, who visited her daily, told his daughter that he was going on a journey. He had been invited to a meeting with other knights and nobles. But before he left, the princess told him to give her greetings to the Green Knight. The king was puzzled, but since he never denied her anything, he gave her his promise."

"He searcher him among the gathering and then on his way back to the kingdom, but he wasn't able to find the knight until he lost his way in a forest and a man he found there told him he was in the Green Knight lands. The king was delighted and finally found the man in the garden of a castle built in the middle of the forest. When he gave the man his daughter's greeting, the man recognized her from dreams he had been having. The knight gave the king a jewel casket with his portray so the princess could recognize him when he come to visit her."

"When the king returned to his country the princess was waiting for him and he gave her the casket." Egil sighed, between Sigurðr and his sister, they were keeping Arthur awake instead of getting him to sleep. "A little time later the knight came to visit the princess and they agreed to get married. However, the princess warned him that her step mother would came after him if he learned about it so the knight visited her in secret."

"But the queen learned about it anyways and grew furious because her own daughter was still unmarried, to stupid and ill tempered for anyone to wish for her. She decided to poison the knight, for the princess would not marry before her own daughter while she lived." A fairy, who had been hovering over Arthur's head squeaked and hidden under the blanket shaking. "The prince grew ill and the princess had no news of him for a long time. Finally, a bird told her the news and how she may save him."

"It told her to go to the castle and find a snake nest. She was to take the snake's offspring and take them to the Green Knight's castle. There she would dress as a maid and make him a soup with the snakes. After drinking it for three days he would be cured. She did as the bird told her, found the snakes and went to her lover's castle. There she exchanged her fine clothes with a goose-girl and entered the staff as a kitchen-maid."

"Now, the castle was in great turmoil because no-one could cure the knight's ailment so when she declared she could cure him the physicians decided to allow her, there was little to louse at that point." Ylba's Nisse decided it was high time to join his friend under the covers. "When he was well again he asked for the one who saved him and the princess came, still dressed in her rags. She asked to marry him but he said he may only marry the princess whom he loved. The girl then went and changed to her own clothes, the knight recognized her and both were merry."

"They soon got married and the whole kingdom celebrated. The lady and her daughter were driven away into the wild, where they were devoured by wild beast in the deep of the forest, but none mourned them." Norway concluded, staring at the English child who was shivering at the bed.

"So, which one did you like better kid?" Sigurðr asked, rubbing his cheek against Ylba's, despite her protests. "Arthur?"

Now, it might had more to do with the Norwegian expression when she talked about the step mother's fate than the actual tale but nothing changed the fact that Arthur emitted a choked sob and then burst into loud wails as he clutched Egil's chest. Sigurðr panicked, almost sending his wife crashing into the floor as the two adults tried to get him stop crying. In the end, Arthur refused to let Egil go, but Sigurðr convinced him that no-one would hurt him in any form.

It took them a week to get him back into sleeping alone, but at least Ylba took it with sort of good humour when Sigurðr slipped the child into their bed for the night. Poor Egil, though, got to be Arthur's playmate when the child went to play with Grani at the horse shed under the Norwegian watchful eye.

* * *

Author's Notes: I had fun writing that~ By the way, the Sigurðr bit wasn't in purpose, I chose that name for him before this. It was just that Sigurðr's tale was what fitted best with what I needed.


	9. Until you come and sit awhile with me

Author's Notes: Jackidy asked for this... I hope you aren't disappointed with the result. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Akshaya and Michael belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them.

* * *

Until you come and sit awhile with me

The room was quiet, the two figures in the bed completely still as the weak sun rays bathed the house. One of the figures stirred, green eyes peering into the dark room and his companion. A strand of hair was waving softly in front of his bedmate's face and he picked it gently, wavy blond hair almost impossibly fine between his fingers. Sean stayed like that, hand frozen as he contemplated his sleeping companion.

It was rare that England adopted a feminine form, but not an unwanted occasion. She was beautiful after all and as fierce as she ever was when male. No, his dissatisfaction was not because of how England looked but the lingering distrust he felt in his heart.

Sean had spent the last ten years in his country, dying day by day as his people starved and left for better lands. As the years passed his resentment toward his younger brothers grew, only Scotland understanding his now cold aptitude towards England and Wales. The pair had faired well during The Hunger, like all of Europe and it seemed like only Ireland had wasted until almost nothing remained of him.

England shifted, snuggling deeper into her pillow, Ireland letting her hair return to its former place. There had been a time when he would had embrace her, when he would had been content to lay all day with her. But now his skin crawled, his hands itching to harm the peaceful, healthy creature. Sean growled, fist white as he stood, careful to not wake the nation, and left, the house once again silent as he disappeared down the street.

England woke a few hours later to a empty house and aching body.

* * *

"You have been avoiding us." It was a simple statement as far as statements went, but the red head could feel the accusation in them.

"It's your imagination." Ireland denied, not meeting the Welsh's eyes.

"Sean, look at me." But the man pushed him away, exiting the kitchen without a word. "Sean!"

"Look, I don't have anything to say to you! You are just imaging things!" Sean moved to the front door, wanting nothing more than to leave the house, his stomach burning with barely suppressed fury.

"Where?! Where are you going?! You haven't been home for more than an hour!" Aeron demanded, stepping on the threshold to block his exited. "Ireland!"

"THIS IS NOT MY HOME!" Sean roared, pushing Aeron roughly out his way. The Welsh hit the floor hard, a yelp escaping him. The older male paused, pushing down the small part who wanted to apologize to his younger brother.

"…_you blame us._" Ireland turned, eyes widening but before he could respond the door was slammed shut, a click indicating that Wales had locked the door. Sean stared at the door silently, guilt and rage battling within him before he left, knuckles white and expression hard.

Aeron sighed when the other nation finally left the yard, concerned green eyes trailing him. He didn't want to admit it but he was worried. And maybe a little afraid. Sean had grew more violent during the famine years but this was the first time he had outright hurt him during their fights. They had never been gentle, yes, but they tried to avoid outright violence.

With a sigh the nation reentered the kitchen, putting the kettle on, deciding that a tea would help him calm down. Thankfully, Iain wasn't home or a fight would had broke up between the two men. Aeron was perfectly capable of looking after himself, but the amount of destruction the two left after their quarrels was worse that the one left by sugar high colonies.

The sound of a door opening distracted him, emerald green eyes vigilant as he peered out the kitchen's door. The footsteps were uneven and he heard more than once the sound of someone hitting a table or a chair. Wales frowned, there were no colonies at the house at the moment. The only one at the house beside him was Arthur.

"England?" Aeron whispered as his brother descended the stairs, eyes blank as long wavy hair tried to strangle him. Arthur only lost power over his shape when he fell sick and sickness for the English meant sickness for the Welsh in the future.

"Hum?" Arthur grunted, falling ungracefully on a chair and placing his head on his arms. "Wut?"

"Are you feeling alright?" The nation made a sound at the back of his throat, possibly trying to be reassuring. "Forget it. Come on, let's get you back in bed."

Wales became increasingly worried when his brother didn't protest, the two making it back to his room in one piece. Since England hadn't bothered to change from his pyjamas before going downstairs, the twin was able to lie him down with relative ease.

* * *

The house was strangely subdued as he entered the building, only a sleeping Michael on the couch. Hong Kong was one of Arthur's most resent colonies, a sullen kid who loved to play with firecrackers which almost caused the former pirate to have a heart attack. Normally the boy was keep under surveillance by either Aeron or Arthur, but today the kid appeared to be alone.

"Michael." Iain whispered as he shock the boy gently, the kid groaning as he woke up. "Where are Aeron and Arthur?"

"Dun't know." The toddler answered crossly, snuggling into his improvised bed. "Sleepy."

"Come on, Arthur will have my head if I let you sleep in here." Iain sighed and picked the colony up, gland the kid was small enough to weight almost nothing at all. Michael didn't bother to complain, falling sleep almost immediately while the Scot carried him. "Now, where are those two…"

Scotland climbed the stairs, the house still mostly silent until a sudden bang come from the back of the house. Michael startled, the little Asian's face forming an angry, but adorable, pout. Iain grinned, following the explosions' sound to a room whose door had been blown off. "Oi! What happened here?"

"Nothing!" Christopher and Alexander answered in tandem, smiling innocently as smoke rouse from a table. "What makes you say that?"

"Damned sprogs." As long as he wasn't the one held responsible… "Where are Arthur and Aeron… or Akshaya for the matter?"

"Uncle left with mom a couple weeks ago and Untie Akshaya is cooking dinner." New Zealand informed while Australia tried to make a chair catch on fire.

"Thanks... Chris, if you lite that up be sure to know how to turn that off first." The Australian boy nodded and Iain left the room, Hong Kong fast sleep in his arms. He placed him on his bed and headed to the kitchen, finding the Indian woman on the stove, British North America settling the table.

"Welcome home." Matthew greeted him softly, short wavy hair rustling against his face. Akshaya grinned at him, stirring a casserole with one hand while she drank tea with the other.

"Hey, where are Arthur and Aeron?" Iain asked yet again, by now feeling vaguely concerned. "By the way, Michael is sleeping in his room and Christopher is trying to set the house on fire."

"I better go stop him then." The younger male stated, picking his pet polar bear and leaving the older nations alone.

"Arthur fell sick about a week after you left. Aeron took him to the summer house so he could rest." India informed him, turning the fire off and pointing to a cupboard. "Help me out."

"Sick?" Scotland frowned, he hadn't heard of anything in England that would had made his younger brother sick enough for Aeron to take him out the house. "What's wrong with him?"

"No idea."

* * *

The blond sighed, purring the weak soup on a plate, placing it on a tray and climbing the stairs carefully as not to spill it. He knocked gently on the door, but no-one answered so he entered to find Arthur fast sleep on his bed. The male had grown worse during the weeks they had been at the house and Wales worried that maybe, just maybe, England wouldn't put through. While he didn't remember his mother, Sean had told them that she had grown weaker and weaker until she simply wasn't there anymore.

England had been unable to held food down for nearly two weeks now and had grown dangerously weak. Aeron had began to feel the strain of looking after his twin all day long, but there was no-one he felt safe calling for help. Akshaya and Matthew where already looking after their colonies and Iain was dealing with some issues in Scotland. Sean he did not dare to even think off, his side and back aching fiercely still.

He had thought of calling Portugal, or hell, even France, but he refrained. If push came to shove he would go to his brothers, no matter any misgivings he may have. "Arthur." The male placed the tray on the night table and shock his brother gently. "It's time for dinner."

"Aeron?" The English whispered softly, eyes unfocused. "Wher-re is Sean?"

The Welsh bit his lip, bringing his twin into his arms and feeding him slowly. "He isn't here Artie…"

"I waaant him." Arthur protested childishly, pouting but taking his much needed nourishment. Wales feared that he would develop a fever next but Arthur stayed strangely cold.

When the male finished, Aeron placed the tray back on the night table, running his hands on the sticky, tangled hair. What was he suppose to do?

* * *

"Master Aeron insisted that the staff moved to the main house." The head butler, a man named Alan, informed him. Iain had arrived to the summer house only to find it almost completely devoid of life. "He insist on taking care of Master Arthur on his own."

"How is he?" It was obvious that the older man disapproved of his lord actions, but was to polite to say so to his brother's face.

"Master Aeron doesn't aloud us to see him…" Iain nodded, his brother had always been fiercely protective of his twin… When they weren't busy making war against each other. "But Ms. Mills caught a glimpse of him. He is in bad shape, Master Iain, and I fear Master Aeron isn't far behind."

"I see." Alan paused, peering inside the kitchen before stepping aside, bowing politely to the seemingly younger man. "Thank you Alan."

"It's simply my duty, my Lord."

But Scotland didn't heard him, eyes locked on the exhausted form of his brother, the male slumped ungracefully on the kitchen table. "Aeron." He whispered, trying to not startle the male but the Welsh still shot a foot into the air.

"Ia-ain!" And Iain found himself hugging a sobbing Welsh a second later, the younger male a complete wreck in his arms. "Iain! He isn't, oh god, he isn't! I, I don't know what, I… I!"

"Shuu, shuu." He picked him up and sat down heavily on a chair, Wales burring his face into his shirt. "Aeron, please, tell me what is wrong with him."

"I don't know! His country is fine! There is no economic struggle, no famine, no nothing! Bu-ut… Arthur… He keeps on getting worse!" Iain sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around the Welsh. It was obvious the man had run himself raged taking care of their sick brother. "I don't know how long I can keep it up!"

"Come on, let's go check on him." Iain frankly was scared of what he would see, but he followed the Welsh up the stairs and in to the English bedroom.

The window was open, a gentle breeze airing the room. In the center of the bed, a sleeping figure laid, face as pale as the sheets underneath him. Arthur had lost a lot of weight, his face sunk from the lack of nourishment. The air was thick with magic, fairies, unicorns and dwarfs keeping guard over the ill nation. A Dryad was checking his temperature, but when the brothers entered the room the magical creatures left, wanting to give them some time alone.

"Arthur?" Scotland shock, he had never seen his brother so still, only the times where the black death struck coming close.

"Se-ean?" Came the soft answer, half liden eyes peering at him before closing again. "Iain."

"You sound disappointed Artie!" Iain forced himself to sound cheerful as he bent to kiss the other in the forehead. "Don't tell me you prefer his company to mine?"

England hummed in response, snuggling deeper into his bed. "I'm tired." He said eventually, already half sleep. "Soo tired."

Scotland and Wales left the room soon after, an elf taking their place as they left. Aeron seemed ready to burst in to tears again so Iain hugged him loosely around the shoulders. "It's ok, little brother."

"No it's not!" Aeron protested hotly, tears running down his face. "He, he keeps getting worst! I have tried everything I could think of…"

"Shuu, shuu." Iain sighed, wondering what their idiot brother had landed himself in this time. "Look, I will stay to help you, okay? I'm sure between the two of us we can make him healthy again!"

"…No…" Wales shook his head, rubbing his eyes roughly. "Go home and drag Ireland's idiot ass here. England has been asking for him for weeks."

"You sure?" Scotland didn't want to leave only to return to two sick brothers instead of one. "We can send a messenger…"

"No, a messenger can't knock him out and drag his fat ass if necessary." Aeron smiled weakly at him, no doubt wishing to be the one to kick said Irish ass. "Just… don't take to long?"

"Sure thing little brother."

* * *

"Arthur?" Aeron whispered softly at his brother when he found him out of bed for the first time in weeks. "What are you doing out of bed?"

The English man shook his head, hugging himself tightly as he stared emptily out the window. Aeron approached him quietly, grabbing a quilt from the bed and wrapping it around them, the Welsh supporting most of the English weight, or what little remained of it. "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

"Aeron." Wales stopped as he felt his brother began to shake, face hidden behind a curtain of hair. When he hugged the nation, the female buried her face in to his shoulder, but no tears damped his thin sleeping shirt. Aeron ran his hands through her hair, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Aeron…"

"What's wrong?" The other nation whispered in to her ear, fear and dread missing in his gut. What had reduced the fierce nation to this state? "Brother."

England didn't answer, instead taking his hand and placing it over her stomach, luminous forest green eyes meeting wide emerald ones. "What? What I'm suppose to do?"

Wales bit his lip, both brothers had felt the tension in Ireland the past few years, a tension that threatened to explode at any second. But there was no fucking way in hell the bastard was going to let his brother deal with this alone, not without the Welsh coming after his head at least. "Well, the Haggis bastard will have to take responsibility of course!"

"But Sean…"

"I don't care what his sodding issue is!" Aeron growled, tightening his hold on his twin, if the Irish dared to put a single hand on his brother… "Besides! I'm here, ain't I? And the hairy bastard too!"

"I suppose." Morgana agreed, grinning weakly at him, looking more like her own self as she strained up. Her eyes turned sharp, the military commander, the pirate, the empire was there, fierce as the sea and unforgiven like the storm. "Yes, indeed."

Aeron smirked back, kissing the woman softly in the lips before dragging her back to bed. The two felt sleep not long after, but not even the fairies dared to enter the room, the air thick with magic and power. The empire slept on, unconcerned, savage smiles on their near identical faces.

* * *

During the two weeks it took Scotland to return with Ireland, England finally began to show signs of recovery. Wales, whose nerves had been stomped, fried and then fed to a dragon, had priced the gods before collapsing for a few days, completely exhausted. It was with great relief that the house welcomed the arrival of the two nations, the males tripping over themselves as they run up to Arthur's, and now Aeron's too, room.

They found Aeron slept, or he had been sleeping at least, on Morgana's lap, the female working on some sort of embroidery project. Scotland almost collapsed in relief, but Ireland frowned darkly at what he saw. When he had last seen the nation, maybe three months ago, she had been completely healthy, if always on the thin side. Now, she looked like a strong breeze would carry her off.

"About bloody time you arrived!" Aeron grouched, climbing off the bed and dragging himself over Scotland. "Come on! You are going to help me prepare dinner!"

"But Aeron!" Iain protested, but Aeron ignored him, dragging the taller nation by the ear, muttering under his breath all the time.

"Hello." Ireland nodded, sitting down on the bed, inspecting England carefully. The nation fidgeted, dodging his eyes as she covered herself with a sweater. "I'm sorry Scotland dragged you here."

"I'm not." Sean scowled, hugging the nation to his chest, wanting to hit the pretty idiot's head but refraining. "Damn it Morgana, you are skin and bones!"

"It's not my fault!" England defended herself, glaring hotly at him. "It's all your bloody fault!"

"What?!" Sean protested, barely ducking in time to avoid a whack to the head. "What did I do?!"

"You! You bloody wanker! I, I, I ought to castrate you!" Ireland was about to retort when Morgana grabbed his hand and pushed it toward her abdomen. "This is what you did!"

A nation, there was the bloody feeling of a nation within England.

_England was pregnant._

"Oh Lord."

"Oh god, AERON! SEAN FAINTED!"

* * *

After Sean had rejoined them in the land of living and Morgana was placed on an armchair in the sitting room, the four sat staring at each other. Aeron was glaring at his older brothers, daring them to say the wrong things as the female shifted uneasily under their eyes. Iain's mouth was opened rather unattractively as he stared, Sean looking ready to faint again at a moment notice.

"This is all your fault!" Wales scowled, pointing angrily at Ireland. "If she doesn't castrate you I will!"

"Bu-uut how?" Iain spluttered finally, gapping at the blushing nation before him.

"How the hell do you think?" Aeron demanded, crossing his arms and looking at the Scot like he was an idiot, which he was in the Welsh opinion.

"Sean?" Morgana whispered and the two bickering nations felt silent, ready to intervened if things got ugly. "What… what are you going to do?"

"What? What kind of question is that?!" Sean demanded, finally finding his voice. Aeron glared darkly at him, but refrained from hitting the Irish… for the moment at least.

"I mean… Uh…" Morgana squirmed again, but refused to turn her eyes away from his, it would be admitting defeat. If only Ireland knew to what exactly.

"You are going to take responsibility of this or so help me!" Aeron cried, hissing like an irate cat and hugging England to himself. "Don't you dare escape to your bloody island like, like, well, like the bastard you are!"

"What?!" Sean gapped at him, before shooting up from the chair and tackling the pair to the floor, Morgana and Aeron complaining loudly at the treatment.

"CAREFUL YOU IDIOT!" Wales roared, thankful that the female had landed on top him, even if his back was going to be complaining in the morning. "WHAT PART OF PREGNANT DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"OH MY GOD, I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!" The three brothers blinked as the eldest began to shout and, _was he doing a victory dance?!_ "OH GOD!" Morgana yelped as she was removed from her place on the floor and was spun in the air. "I LOVE YOU! A FATHER! I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!"

"BUT ME DOWN YOU IDIOT!" England was turning rather green so Scotland hurried to remove the female from his brother's enthusiastic embrace.

"We have to prepare the clothes, a room, and oh GOD! I'M GOING TO BE A FA-" A solid whack to the head and Sean was on the floor again, Morgana glaring darkly as she held the broken chair on her hands.

"Iain, be a dear and trow him to the garden fountain, will you? And don't let him in to the house until he calms down."

* * *

"So~" Christopher was staring at his mother as he had never seen the woman before, which frankly he seldom did. "Uncle Sean knocked Mom up?"

"CHRISTOPHER!" Morgana roared, Akshaya trowing a book at him for his language.

"Hum, mom, I don't think that's good for the baby…" Matthew whispered, handing her a cup of freshly made tea.

"With you lot misbehaving like you do…" The British nation scowled but drowned her tea, Alexander wincing as she should had burned her throat with it but appeared completely unconcerned.

"I bet it will be as cute as his mother." Sean declared, kissing the nation on the cheek, much to England and his colonies displeasure. "Agh, come on dear."

"Go away." England ordered glaring darkly at him before tilting her head to the side. "Actually, forget that. Go make me some Surströmming."

"Wha-at?" Aeron had turned pale on his side, Iain a lovely shade of green. "Wha-at do you waa-ant to eat?"

"Surströmming you idiot."

It was going to be a _long_ pregnancy.

* * *

Author's Notes: Arthur reacted badly to the pregnancy because the baby not only was of a nation who was just starting to recover from a famine but since the English were growing unpopular by the time, the baby was essentially rejecting his mother. Which is also the reason why England was calling for Ireland, the baby wanted his fatherland near him.


	10. Happy Mother's Day

Author's Notes: I have no idea what possesed me to write this. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Patrick, Akshaya and Michael belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them... Not that Iain or Akshaya appear much, anyways... I own Norway, Denmark and Iceland's names.

* * *

Happy Mother's Day

There was only one day the personification of England had learned to hate more than his designated birthday. The day, though lately it seem like a month really, was usually predated by numerous ex-colonies irrupting in his house during the week prior to the event, causing Wales to complain loudly at the amount of visitors. He had long associated the sound of firecrackers, fist fights, broken china,quarreling pets and the odd explosion to the fourth Sunday of Lent.

"Come on mother." It seemed Alex had been charged with distracting him this year, New Zealand's deadpan expression at odds with the chaos around them. "Uncle Aeron has made us a list."

And what diversion had the nations planned for their ever loving mother you ask? Why, buying every know kind of food known to humankind to feed them. Given the fact they came from all over the globe, and one unwilling guest from out, it would only take the two males most the day to acquire the items of the list. It was a fact well known to England, but trying to refuse would only make the process more painful to himself.

After spending more hours that they cared to think about in different food shop around the city, the two nations decided to collapse in a small cafe that Arthur liked to frequent. "Why do we have to buy a ton of hamburgers? At least we found the five new sodding china sets."

"Mom, may we visit the bookstore before returning home?" Arthur nodded, having the same love for reading that the younger male did. "...any idea where we can dump the truck?"

"We will just left it in the parking lot and take the bus I think." There was no way they could find a parking space at this hour.

So the two nations left, much happier now than they didn't have to worry about Iain's old truck. Arthur had been tempted to hand it to Patrick and have him smash it against a wall more than once, but he didn't want to deal with the nation's cries over his beloved vehicle for it. At least the thing still, more or less, worked.

It was almost five o'clock when the pair returned home, exhausted and more than a little cranky. The smell of hamburgers had gave Arthur a headache, the traffic only adding to it. Both nations only wanted to return home and collapse in to whatever flat surface was free for their use, be it the couch, a bed or the bloody floor if it came to it. But England knew that as soon as he returned home he would have to deal with whatever mess the sprogs had made of it.

"Hey! Mom's back!" Fiji shouted in to the house, a mad scramble following it. Arthur, however, was more interested in the four nations doing a Mexican stand in his front yard. What the hell was Wang doing here?!

England sighed and parked the truck inside the garage, explosions signaling the demise of his beloved garden. The fucking idiots, why did they had to fight in his garden?! When he returned Patrick had somehow acquired a long bow while Yao had changed his favourite wok for an actual sword. Things where no better with Michael and Sean, the pair having grown tired or simply using them all, with explosives and moved to... where in the name of the Queen did Sean get an assault rifle?!

"YOU FOUR WILL STOP IT THIS SECOND OR I'M GOING TO GUT YOU AND USE YOUR BODIES FOR THIS YEAR'S BONFIRE NIGHT!" The nations froze as the irate English picked up a broom and pointed at them with it. "RETURN ALL THAT TO WHERE YOU FOUND IT OR SO HELP ME, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU CAN'T HOLD A BLOODY SPOON WITH YOU TONGUES."

Not even Ireland and China were stupid enough to go against England when he was like this, so the four scrambled to put away they various weapons before the nation decided to hold true to his word. "AND COME BACK HERE WHEN YOU ARE DONE, I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!"

"Agh, mom, shill down will ya?" Chris shouted from the relative safety of the front door. He barely dodged the flying broom to the head, the nation laughing nervously before disappearing back into the house.

"Listen, you four, you are going to fix whatever damage you have made now. I don't care how long it takes you or how long you will have to work, you will fix my garden, _are we clear?_." Yao looked mutinous but one glance at Arthur's face was enough to remind him how exactly Michael had became an English colony.

New Zealand, who was by now munching on something or another, decided it was high time to drag his mother back in to the house, the two nations groaning when confetti, ribbons and other unidentified objects rained over them. "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!" The ex-colonies shouted, making poor England's headache worsen by the second.

Arthur was quickly dragged in to the back yard, a table filled to the brim with food, and he was pushed down in to a seat at the head of the table. His children descended on him next, hugging, lifting him to the air, and generally making an spectacle of themselves. England was quite gland when he was finally left alone on his seat, Wales smirking at him before setting a cake before him, New Zealand, Seychelles and India placing copies of it around the table.

"Mom! Come on! Stop being a sour puss!" Alfred shouted in to his ear, someone having deemed it appropriate to place a stereo in the yard and have it blasting music at them.

Arthur didn't answer for once, only rubbed his aching forehead and ate a bit of food on his plate. He fled as soon as he was able to the safety of his parlor, collapsing on a sofa groaning. "Mom, you are such an old man." Patrick stated, the nation being allowed back at the house after fixing the garden with some Dryads' help.

"Shut up." Arthur groaned, squeaking indignantly when he felt arms punching him up and an unshaven face brushing his own. "Francis! What the fuck are you doing he-GET YOUR HANDS AWAY YOU PERVERT!" A solid punch to the gut and the English man was able to get away from the Frenchman grip... only to fell on Russia's waiting arms. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU BLOODY KOLZKOLZ?!"

"Comrade Kirkland, I wouldn't have miss the occasion of course."

"HEY, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY MOM, YOU COMMIE!" Alfred shouted irately, things evolving quickly in to a fist fight as Arthur dragged himself away. Who the fuck invited those wankers to his home anyway?!

England sighed and dragged himself to the couch, collapsing in to a blushing Iceland's lap, drawing a few pills from his back pocket and snuggling in to Egil's chest. Whoever dared to bother him now would have to pass Norway and Denmark's first, Sigurðr trying to stop Hemming from killing the Englishman for touching his brother one of the world's most effective barriers in his aching mind.

Thankfully, when he woke up he would have some time to prepare psychologically for his birthday and Father's Day at Denmark's house. At least if Hemming finally managed to kill him this year he wouldn't have to worry about the disaster zone his house would not doubt be in the morning.

* * *

Author's Notes: ...I did it for the lols?


	11. The Wind carries the News

Author's Notes: Different people react to the fact that the British Empire is with child… also know as how many ways I can make people faint without repeating myself. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Akshaya and Michael belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them. I do, however, own both Portugal and Singapore, and Denmark, Iceland and Norway's names. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

The Wind carries the News

The mansion, for it couldn't be described as anything else, was as majestic as he remembered it. Flowers of all kinds decorated the yard and an old swing hung from a tree. The sound of laugher could be heard even from the fence, children running around the mansion's gardens and halls. The coachman unloaded his trunk and left him fidgeting in front of the house.

With his boss new policy things had grown tense not only between him and his brother, but with Carmela too. Not that they were better with Arthur, but at least it wasn't like war was going to explode between them again… for the moment at least. But after a few months of watching him mop around the White House, his boss's wife had shipped him to England, not even her husband daring to protest.

It has been almost a hundred years Alfred; it is high time you two patch things up. After all, they are your family.

"Easy for you to say" The nation scowled, a hundred years was nothing to the older countries and he was sure England was a bitter now as he had been then.

"Why are you standing there?" USA yelped, wide blue eyes searching for the origin of the voice. "Are you here to see mom?"

"Mum?" His interrogator was a young girl dressed in a pretty azure dress, her dark brown eyes peering at him curiously. A squirrel was sitting comfortably on her head, his tail wrapped around her neck like a scarf. "Uh… I'm looking for Arthur Kirkland?"

"That's mum's name." The child declared cheerily, her pet jumping of her perch and running toward the mansion. "Ah, wait for me Malli!"

"Hey, wait!" Alfred shouted, but the girl had already disappeared from sight. "Now what I'm supposed to do…"

USA was about to leave and search for a hotel when he heard shouts behind him. The girl was back, dragging a blond man by the hands as 'Malli' ran in front of her. When the man glared Alfred gulped, wanting nothing else but to run as far away as possible from his crazy uncle. But a hero never runs away from a challenge, so the male stood his ground, fighting to not shake under the Welsh gaze.

"And what the fuck are you doing here?" Aeron was not amused; he had been cooking dinner when Stella had run in to the house shouting about a strange man wanting to see Arthur. Since the nation was in no position to go running after colonies, Wales had been forced to leave their food under Michael and Alexander's watch.

"Uh, I came to visit?" Wales didn't seem impressed with him but the girl was tugging at his pants, her pet imitating her from the other side.

"Fine, but I will hang, draw and quarter you if you upset England, do you understand me?" Alfred nodded, not doubting for a minute the blond would carry out his word.

Aeron opened the gate and Alfred followed him back to the mansion, Stella running ahead of them once again. The Welsh guided him to what he dimly remembered as Arthur's favourite parlour, one that overlooked the rose gardens. The younger male blinked when they found only a female sleeping at one of the couches, a book lying on her lap. Stella stalked silently toward her, shaking her gently as her pet climbed to her lap.

"Mum, someone is here to see you!" USA gaped as familiar forest green eyes peered at him, the female raising from her place on the couch pulling the child to her side.

"MOM?" Alfred shouted, jumping back and crashing against an armchair. His eyes were still glued to the female form, placing a hand, rudely mind you, on her stomach to check what they were seeing. "Oh. My. God."

"Stella, can you bring the salts please?" Morgana sighed; she really wished people would stop fainting when they saw that she was pregnant.

* * *

Consuelo Annabel Oliveira Amil sighed in relief as her best friend large mansion came into her view. The female had received a vague letter that requested her presence at the island and had been unsettled ever since. Aeron, Alexander and Michael were waiting for her at the door, the youngest child more interested in the garden than greeting her.

"Hello Auntie Consuelo." New Zealand greeted her calmly as the female kneeled to give him and Hong Kong a hug.

"Hello little ones, how are you?" She picked Michael up easily while they talked, smiling in thanks as the Welsh grabbed her trunk.

"Fine"

"Hey! Auntie Consuelo is here!" A girl shouted from the top of the stairs, a squirrel sitting comfortably on her head. "Hi Auntie"

"Hello to you too" Portugal found herself quickly surrounded by colonies, some asking for sweets and other gifts while others asked for stories about her trips. "Aren't they more... energetic than normal?"

"Tell me about it. Okay sprogs, back off, she come here to talk with England, you will have your turn later!" Aeron shouted, shooing the protesting children away. "Go bother Akshaya or something. OI MATTHEW, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"We left him in the library!" A colony responded cheerfully, the rest turning panicked eyes to each other.

"You 'left'? You locked him in again, didn't you?" Portugal decided that she best left the blond to deal with Arthur's little demons on his own. She had her own misbehaving troupe to deal with, no need to add other people's children to it.

Consuelo made her way to the nation's study; no doubt England had gotten lost in his work again and forgotten about the time. At least Wales made sure that he didn't miss meals nowadays. "Arthur, may I come in?"

"Oh, dear, is it that late already?!" Consuelo stuffed a giggle as the nations scrambled to fix his desk into some semblance of order. "Come in! The door is unlocked!"

"England?"

"Yes?"

"I think I need to sit down." Morgana sighed as she moved to support the very pale woman to one of the study's armchairs. "Oh, God, I'm never going to allow any of those bastards to even look at me again."

"If you mean France I agree whole heartily." A pause. "HEY, no hitting the pregnant woman!"

"Don't such things then! You are going to give me nightmares!"

* * *

"Mon cher Consuelo, where are you?" The unmistakable French voice called, causing Morgana to cringe as she set her embroidery to the side. "Ma chère sœur! why must you worry your dear brother so?"

"Well, we expected him a week ago?" Portugal pointed out sheepishly at her, Singapore chuckling as New Zealand and Hong Kong smirked at their mother's misfortune.

"Bloody frog should mind his own business." But England had to admit she had been waiting/dreading this when Portugal announced that she was staying for the rest of her pregnancy. For all his faults, Francis was serious when he adopted anyone as his sibling, perverted as he was at it.

"What the fuck are you doing here frog?!" Morgana cursed as the sound of Welsh curses rung across the house. "GET YOU FUCKING HANDS OF ME?"

"Ah, you wound me, Mon petit Chou" While England was used to the sight, Portugal gapped as they found Aeron beating Francis back with a bottle of whisky. "Why won't you accept my love?"

"You will need something harder than that Aeron." Morgana pointed out, leaning on the staircase's banister to watch the show more comfortingly. "I'm afraid his head is quite hard."

"Oh, Mon cher! You look absolutely lovely in that dress!" England squeaked indignantly when France gathered her in an overly affective hug. The expected inappropriate touch didn't come, however, as the Frenchman froze as something very round pressed against his torso. "...I don't suppose you have been putting on a little weight, do you?"

"DIE IN HELL YOU FUCKER!" Portugal winced as her 'brother' was tossed rather harshly to the floor and England dug the heel of her boot into the French stomach. "I'm pregnant you idiot!"

"...Oh."

"Mum?" Singapore asked as the English lady began to climb the stairs without sparing the unconscious France a second glance. "Shouldn't we wake him up?"

"Let him to rot there for all I care." Was the rather irate response as Consuelo moved to check that the man was still breathing, "Bloody frog! I'm not fat damn it!"

"But mom, what if someone comes?" Alex pointed out since Francis hadn't made it out of the foyer before Aeron came to shout at him for breaking into the house. "He doesn't make for a good rug, I think."

"Fine" Morgana shouted exasperatedly, giving the French a good kick to the side and tossing him to the coat's closet. "There, no one will see his idiotic face now!"

* * *

Norway scowled as the ship finally docked in British shores, tired blue eyes resting on the land as the sailors got to work. Iceland was sitting on the deck, talking softly to his pet as Denmark and Sweden glared at each other. Finland smiled at him as he emerged from below, cheery expression turning to exasperation as he caught sight of the warring nations below them.

"Oi, you two, it's time to disembark!" Hemming called out flatly, Berwald and Sigurðr finally breaking off their glaring contest in favour of meeting their adopted child. "Why did they have to drag Egil and me with this idiocy?"

"Ah… But it has been such a long time since we travelled together." Tino protested as they walked out the docks, Sigurðr waving two coaches for their use. "Besides, they really love visiting England, don't you think?"

Hemming scowled harder, his dislike of the nation nothing new. He didn't see how he had ended joining Sigurðr in his voyage to visit the British, but after a letter had turned up requesting Sweden and Denmark's presence at the island he had found himself in a ship not long after. He had even less clue as to how his brother had ended joining them, for Egil should had been visiting his country at the time but here they all were.

When they entered the mansion's gardens, a group of kids was playing amidst the fallen leaves, various animals surrounding them. Akshaya and Matthew were keeping an eye on the group while the two conversed on one of the garden's benches. One of the boys was the first to notice them, the crowd of kids forming a messy line as they gathered in the mansion's front door.

"Hey kids, have you been giving your mother grey hairs again?" Sigurðr asked cheerfully as the crowd adopted various innocent expressions, pets and all.

"Mum is waiting at the parlour!" A girl carrying a squirrel declared, some of the kids already disappearing into the house. "Uncle Aeron and Iain are with her, Uncle Sean went to the city with Auntie Consuelo."

"Really now? So, which one are you? I don't believe we have met yet." The girl shrieked happily as she was placed over the Dane shoulders, other colonies complaining about favouritism.

"I'm Singapore!" By now they had reached the parlour, the British nations looking up from their tea cups to greet their guest. Sigurðr blinked when he saw Morgana, but thought nothing of it until she rose to welcome them.

"Well… That was unexpected." Denmark commented as Finland and Norway tried and failed to support an unconscious Sweden. "So, who is the father?"

"Ireland." England almost sighed in relief when the hard glint that had appeared on her self declared father vanished… mostly. The nation had no wish to see blood shed on the house, today at least. "Stella, you know what to do."

"Yes mum!" The colony produced the salts dutifully from somewhere within her dress and Berwald was settled on a couch to recover.

"Pr'gn'nt." Was all he said as Tino fanned him, the blond chuckling softly at his partner's reaction to the news.

"So, you are going to make me real grandfather now?" Sigurðr grinned as he hugged the female, kissing her gently on the cheek and settling her back to the ground. Morgana accepted a slightly blushing kiss from Egil with good humour, the two males taking sit at either side of her on the couch.

"Are you mama's father?!" A colony shouted, the group bursting in to excited whispers. Hemming, knowing what was about to come, really wished he had stayed in Norway.

* * *

"Oi! Arthur!" England jumped as the sound of her door being knocked down signalled the entrance of the Kingdom of Prussia to her house. "Come on! We are going drinking tonight!"

The nation cursed the albino's very existence as Singapore giggled behind her hand at her mother's growing difficulty to get up on her own. Her children had gotten great enjoyment from the fact she couldn't leap to punish them for any misbehaviour until she had shown them that her aiming skills were as sound as ever.

"Bloody wanker" Morgana cursed as the albino continued to shout her name. "Stella, come along now." No sense leaving the girl alone, she was sure to cause some sort of trouble if left unwatched. As no doubt the rest of her colonies were doing at the moment.

"Yes mum!" The two nations exited the British's studio and descended the stairs while the German nation tossed his hat and coat to the closet she kept for such purpose.

"Oi Arthur! There you ar…" Prussia trailed of as he stared at the very pregnant nation in all her glory. "…Why the hell do you want anymore brats? Don't you have enough by now?"

"Shut your trap you imbecile. Now, move it and fix my front door." Morgana pointed angrily at the once very solid and imposing oak door. How in the name of the Lord had the nation managed to knock it down?! "The cold is coming in!"

"So, who is the father?" Gilbert ignored her completely, bending down to mess Stella's hair, much to the girl's displeasure. "He~, pansy pants and brother are going to freak when they hear about this."

"Sean that damned prat, now fix that bloody door! It's freezing out there!"

"Nah, maybe later" England spluttered as Prussia turned and began to shout at the top of his voice. "OI, IRELAND, YOU OWN ME A BEER FOR STEALING MY DRINKING MATE. WHERE ARE YOU BASTARD?"

"I'll SHOW YOU A BEER YOU WANKER!" Prussia laughed maniacally as he dodged a dagger to the head and the following one to the heart.

* * *

Her Majesty, Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland blinked. While the royal had grown used to the fact the personification of her Kingdom was most certainly not human, evidenced quite easily in the fact he had not grown a day older since the Queen had meet him during her youth, there was nothing that could had prepared her Majesty for this.

The nation herself, dressed quite modestly in attire similar to the one the Queen herself used when she was with child, shifted uneasily under her monarch gaze. The female (?), normally so proper before her, looked more like a recalcitrant teenager than the proud British Empire. Her Highness supposed it was quite normal for the nation to not behave like her, as the Queen had sometimes found herself quite unlike herself during her own pregnancy.

"We congratulate our nation most sincerely." The ruler of the United Kingdom declared finally, her nation looking visibly more at ease. The Queen took her leave shortly after, not wishing to upset the nation on her delicate, and how queer the mere idea was, condition.

"We wish for paper and quill." Her attendant bowed and returned promptly with the requested items. Her Majesty wrote quickly and efficiently, her neat script covering the fine paper shortly and mentioned for the man to pick it back up. "All this must be delivered today to Lord Kirkland's state."

"As her Majesty commands" The attendant replied and the Queen left the man alone, confident that her orders would be carried out promptly and efficiently.

Shortly after dinner, the Kirkland household received the visit of one of her Majesty personal attendant, who had ordered for the deliver of the most luxurious gifts in honour of the birth of the entity who would represent a portion of her lands.

* * *

"Mon Cher, please, you must stay behind this time." Francis tried, once again, to convince the stubborn nation who walked beside him. During the last week, all members of the Kirkland's household had tried, and failed, to convince the nation to stay at the British Islands. As it was, the nation was growing more and more irritated by the moment and Francis feared that there was simply no way to convince the country to stay behind just this one time.

"Shut up, Frog. I don't trust you for a second to not screw things up." Morgana scowled darkly, hair cut carefully short to hide the fact she was, upon a closer look, quite obviously female. Francis had not missed the fact her hand had stayed to her side, where to doubt she had hidden some kind of weapon. Once a pirate, always a pirate it seem.

"But mum petit Chou; you gave birth but a week ago!" And the pregnancy had been nothing short of nightmarish for all the implicated. Ireland had just started to recuperate from a famine and the baby had wrecked chaos in the nation's body due to it. "Besides, what will you do with young Patrick? Surely you don't mean to leave him to a nurse?"

"Did you say England just gave birth, France?" Francis shot a foot in to the air as the sweet Russian voice interrupted him, the nation smiling gently from the door. "I can't wait to meet him! After all, you all will be one with the Russian Empire."

France swore under his breath as England began to scream loudly at the taller blond, threatening him to the pits of hell if he even dared to think about putting a foot in British soil. There was no way the nation was going to stay behind now, not with the impersonation of an furious mother bear whose cub had been threatened she was performing. Scotland, Wales and Ireland were sure to have his head if they found out about this.

Francis wondered if he still had time to leave for a long, nice visit to the British North America. He was due to visit about now after all... Never mind the fact his dear Mathieu was staying at Morgana's house at the moment, he suddenly felt the need to see his ex-colony lands now.

* * *

Author's Notes: The final count of fainting people/nations? 7+. Ireland, USA, France, Sweden, the Prime Minister (Not shown), Austria and Germany (When Prussia came home and told them the news). Portugal came pretty close and some unnamed, newly hired staff from didn't take the news well either.


	12. Happy Father's Day

Author's Notes: Companion piece to 'Happy Mother's Day'. I own Portugal and Norway, Denmark, Iceland and Belgium's names. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Happy Father's Day

"Brother, it has been such a long time since we saw each other!" Ivan froze as the dreaded voice came from behind him, a gloved hand wrapping around his arm.

"A-ah, so I-it has be-en." He answered mechanical, sweating profusely as he tried to think of a way to escape the female. But her hold was firm and he could feel himself growing more and more panicked.

"Ah, there you are Natalya!" Suddenly, Russia found himself out off his sister grip and looking into the back of Denmark's head. "Norway said he needed your help in the kitchen."

"But, but I was talking to brother." The girl pouted, childishly, eyes shinning as she tried to reach the male again. But Sigurðr stood firmly between them, pointing firmly in the direction of the kitchen.

"_Natalya_."

"...I'm going." Ivan sighed in relief as the female left them, muttering all the while under her breath. He didn't resist when the older male started to lead him away, the pair dodging the different nations scattered around the room toward the patio's door.

"Come on, Hemming will keep her entertained for a while." And not be happy about it, but Sigurðr knew better than to mention that in front of his adopted nephew. "I think I saw England and Iceland hiding by the pool if you need company. France is probably annoying them with USA."

"Thank you." Ivan slipped away quickly, barely evading Yekaterina, the shy older woman conversing softly with Edward. Sigurðr considered going to break them up, but then again, Ukraine was harmless, at least to his boy. Now, to any other nation...

"Norw'y s'ys to t'll you th't h' h't's you." Berwald informed him, slipping easily to walk beside the Dane. "H' 'lso s'yd th't h' h't's you ch'ldr'n."

"Did she try to poison the food again?" Sweden nodded, Denmark shacking his head as he changed course to the kitchen. "That girl really should know better than to mess with anything Finland and Norway cooked." Especially Tino's but there is no need for a fight between them tonight.

They found the girl pouting as she peeled potatoes, Peter whinnying at her side. Sigurðr wondered in what kind of mischief the boy had caught himself in, but he really should deal with Belarus first. Besides, Finland was sure to punish him for whatever thing he had done now. "Natalya, Berwald said you tried to poison the food, _again."_

"I didn't poison it, those were sleeping pills."

"...Very well, you're now stuck helping in the kitchen the whole night and if _I hear you are causing trouble I will not be happy_, okay?"

"...Yes sir." The girl answered meekly, Sealand shrinking back at the tune in the male's voice. It was like hearing England and Finland rolled in one.

"Good girl." Sigurðr patted the girl on the head, walking toward the stove were Hemming was busy messing with something or another. Denmark hugged the other loosely, kissing him softly on the cheek before murmuring in his ear. "Sorry about the trouble, she should, at least, behave for a few hours."

"She better be." His Nisse nodded, passing Norway the salt and flying away to retrieve the pepper. Sigurðr waved lazily at the creature and the fairy tugged his hair lightly in response. "You better leave before someone tries to set the house in fire again."

"I don't think either Hong Kong or Australia are here this year. But it never hurts to be careful I suppose. See you later." Norway waved him away and Denmark left the kitchen only to crash into Lithuania. "And where do you think you are going?"

"Ah, I saw Miss Belarus come this way and I wanted to wish her a good evening..." The brunet wilted under the blonde's glare and quickly excused himself. Really, if he wanted to date the girl he really needed to grow a pair.

"Scaring the boy again, old man?" Gilbert grinned as he passed him a beer, his own mug filled to the brim. Sigurðr grinned, accepting the beer gratefully after a night of stopping various nations from causing havoc around his house.

"I think you should return to your own job." Sigurðr responded easily as he noticed Feliciano wrapped all around Ludwig while Feliks smiled dangerously at him. "Though it looks like Poland would be glad to fill in"

"Drat, better break them off then or they will destroy the house." West Germany left hurriedly, saluting him one last time with his beer before shouting something to his brother.

"I better check that Francis isn't causing any trouble." It was never a good idea to leave Arthur and Francis in the same place unwatched. Or Ivan and Alfred for the matter.

"_You bloody frog, get away from me!"_

"_Ah, __mon petit chou__, why won't you accept my love?"_

"_Comrade Jones, I didn't know you had been invited."_

"_I don't know why anyone would invite you."_

"_I'm cursing the lot of you… or throw you into the pool."_

Denmark found Russia and USA smiling chillingly at each other as England tried to beat France to the floor with a chair, Iceland watching from the sidelines. Portugal and Belgium had joined at some moment and the two females were cheering the British on, the French crying pathetically at his 'sister' betrayal.

"Okay, I think that's more than enough, I'm sure Francis got the idea, didn't you?" France nodded, wide eyes locked behind him. Sigurðr didn't bother to turn around, knowing by the heavy footsteps that Berwald had joined them. "Why don't you go back inside? Maybe you can show the boy around."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest but Francis covered it quickly and dragged him away, whispering urgently at him as Berwald followed to stop any mischief. Sigurðr picked an overturned chair and sat down, grinning lopsidedly at them as the rest followed suit.

"Aren't ya a little bit old to be squabbling like that?" Arthur and Egil blushed but Ivan, Consuelo and Adelheid grinned back at him, the little rascals. "At least don't do it where I have to clean the mess, will ya?"

"Yes, Father." Five voices responded in unison, five innocent expressions on their faces. And didn't that spell trouble for some people.

"Just make sure you lot aren't caught, alright?" They are grown up countries after all, a little quarrelling here and there come with the job description.

"We promise."

"You 'r' w'nt'd b'ck insid'." Denmark nodded and the nations follow him back inside where all the countries are gathered around a giant cake and where Finland passed him a glass of Spain's wine. He didn't care much for wine but apparently someone decided beer or any other kind of alcohol wouldn't do for this, better than champagne at least.

"Happy Father's Day!" The nations cheered most half drunk already, and Sigurðr laughed and drank with them. Happy Father's Day indeed.

* * *

Author's Notes: I'm not quite sure why but Finland and Denmark have developed in my head like the kind of parent that goes 'I smile a lot but you will be sorry if you anger me' while Norway and Sweden are more like 'I might glare a lot but I'm actually amused with the disaster you created'.

Norw'y s'ys to t'll you th't h' h't's you.: Norway says to tell you that he hates you.

H' 'lso s'yd th't h' h't's you ch'ldr'n.: He also says that he hates your children.

You 'r' w'nt'd b'ck insid'.: You are wanted back inside.


	13. Family Time

Author's Notes: A early Christmas fic for all of you, enjoy. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Akshaya and Michael belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them. I do, however, own Singapore, Mexico, Venezuela and Chile as well as Cuba's name. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Family Time

Arthur Kirkland was well versed in the different ways his ex-colonies tried to get his attention when they were either bored, jealous or simply feeling mischievous. Be it Alfred's sudden demands for food, Christopher budding pyromaniac tendencies, Canadian misconduct than tried to pass itself as North American or the sound of firecrackers at odd times of the day and sometimes night.

"Mum, I'm hungry!"

"Take your dirty hands of me!"

"Can we all please calm down?"

"Matt, hurry up!"

"It's your fault for arriving late!"

"Mum, can we start?"

"Not until Matthew is seated." He responded firmly, glaring warningly at Fiji and Singapore who stared innocently back at him.

The nations had gathered together to celebrate Christmas and catch up with each other. Initially, they were going to celebrate at New Zealand's house, but USA had complained that the holiday wasn't complete without snow. Since a few of his children had glared murderously at the idea of going to the blonde's house, they eventually settled to meet at Matthew's since he was in good terms with most of the former British colonies.

Arthur was just gland he would have to reconstruct the house more than once this year, the odd piece of broken china still appearing from March. Family meeting were always messy affair and he was gland for Canada's sake that neither Wales, Scotland nor Ireland was able to join them this year. He was a bit disappointed when North Ireland informed him he was spending the holiday with his father but didn't protest. At least this year he won't have to break a fight between Sean and Michael or worse, Yao and Patrick.

"Mum! Come on presents!" Alfred shouted in his ear, dragging him to the tree were a mountain of gifts laid in no kind of order. He and Akshaya moved to the front to distribute the gifts before a fight could break out and the exited shouts and groans filled the house.

"Thank you mama!"

"Mum! What were you thinking?!"

"CHRISTOPHER!"

"Agh, you love it, don't you?"

"Alfred, what in the name of God was you thinking?"

"It's awesome, isn't it?"

All the noise was enough to give the nation a headache but there was little he could do to calm the overzealous countries in the presence of the colourful wrappings. Akshaya looked perfectly at home, drinking her tea with one hand and hitting a colony sharply with her book when he tried to steal one of her chocolates. It was pure pandemonium, but one he has grown used to in the last two centuries, much to his own chagrin.

When the gifts had been all opened the nations separated in smaller groups to play the different games they had brought to amuse themselves. It didn't take long for Peter to get on the New Zealander nerves and Arthur once again wished that Berwald hadn't asked him to look after the boy for the holidays. "You two will stop this no-sense right this second, do you hear me?"

"Yes, mother." Alex whispered sullenly, Peter following suit after receiving a nasty glare from the British male. While he lived with his adopted parents now but they wouldn't disapprove of any punishment given to him by England.

"Good." He responded, hitting Christopher's head without looking as he passes behind him. "What did I say about matches, young man?"

"That I'm not allowed near them?" Australia smiled sheepishly and handed the older man the box he had been carrying.

The sound of the door bell interrupted the sharp reprimand Arthur was going to gift his colony with. It is strange for they aren't waiting for anyone else and Canada's neighbours having already come to wish him a merry Christmas. Stella tried to open the door but Matthew stopped the girl gently, much to her displeasure. "Singapore, come here please." It always paid to be careful, even if the girl was probably more than any human could handle.

Matthew opened the door to reveal a group of different American nations looking back at them. A girl, who Arthur had lately seen around the Canadian and Poland, hugged the blond cheerfully while the rest of the group invaded the house. Alfred almost immediately engaged Carlos in a glaring match and only stopped to chase the little girl when she kicked him on the shin.

Soon enough a rather messy game of tag ensued and England wondered idly where Spain was. The man, while having an even more tense relationship with his colonies than he did with Alfred, loved to spend the holidays with them. "Spain is with waiting for us at Mexico's house, Mr Kirkland."

One of Spain ex-colonies had approached him, looking at the chaos with a half exasperated, and half amused glint in her eyes. It was a glint well known to Arthur; he often wore it when his children were being specially... playful. "I thought he preferred to hold such celebrations at his house."

"We usually do, but we decided to hold it at Carmela's because... well, it has been a hard year for her." England nodded solemnly, understanding clearly what the female was implying. Mexico had been hit hard by the H1N1 flu and probably wasn't up to travelling to Europe for the party. It was also the reason Alfred had been late to their own celebration, having gone first to visit the country before meeting them here.

"My best wishes for her." The woman nodded and the pair didn't exchange anymore words between them until she decided it was time to leave and reared the numerous countries out. The group was as rebellious as his own children, but the female managed with the patience of a mother who was too many children... Or perhaps like a school teacher who questioned her sanity because of her career choice.

But England didn't have much time to contemplate this as the sound of firecrackers came from somewhere in the yard and India threw her book at South Africa for some reason or another. It was, like every year, pure pandemonium.

* * *

Author's Notes: Merry Christmas? By the way, the girl who kicked Alfred in the shin is Teresa, my nation tan for Venezuela. Carlos is Cuba, Stella is Singapore and Carmela is Mexico. The woman who is talking to England is called Carmen and is my nation tan for Chile. The reason why he never mentions it is because, quite frankly, he forgot it. If Canada is USA's 'hat' then Ibero America is his often forgotten back yard (which likes his 'hat' better).


	14. Punk Britain

Author's Notes: Insomnia is a strange, strange muse. I don't own Iain, Aeron and Sean. Jackidy betaed this fic so many thanks to her.

* * *

Punk Britain

The Republic of Ireland was quite sure that he had drunk more than he should have and was hallucinating. There was simply not other explanation for his ex-wife to turn up dressed like a punk to a world meeting. But a glance to France, who had let out a sound quite akin to a dying whale, showed that the other man was also staring disbelieving at the British. The amused face of Denmark and disapproving stare of Sweden and Austria confirmed the verdict.

"Mom, are you drunk?" Alfred asked tactlessly and the male glared, shifting his guitar case to a more comfortable position. Matthew groaned from the seat beside him, but didn't protest the sentiment while Alexander had to hit Christopher with his water bottle to bring him out of his shock.

"Of course I'm not drunk you wanker!" Arthur growled, placing his beloved instrument against a wall and claiming his seat beside Ireland. "Iain was supposed to come in my place today but he called me to fill in since Aeron was throwing a fit about it I simply didn't have time to change before coming here."

Sean supposed that made sense since Iain might become independent he needed to grow used to handle meetings again instead of leaving them to Arthur. But the blonde's twin had reacted like the red head was breaking up with him and nearly strangled him before Scotland convinced him it was England he was leaving behind. But then Arthur had token offence and things would have turned nasty if Patrick hadn't been present.

As far as he knew things had yet to settle between the three and would not probably after the referendum was held. Sean, having gone through already with the independence process, was going to stay clear out of the fight. While quarrels between England and Ireland were anything but pretty, a quarrel between Scotland, Wales and England was nothing short of nightmare fuel. One that Sean fervently hoped to avoid, unless it meant getting smashed with Iain at some of their pubs.

"...Let's start the meeting then. The first..." Ireland ignored whatever Germany was rambling, more interested in the figure of his ex-wife in those tight, ripped jeans and the cleavage exposed by the equally ripped shirt. With a pair headphones hanging from his neck and a chequered scarf, no-one would think he was really the anthropomorphic representation of the United Kingdom. It was, in Sean's honest opinion, damned distracting.

"...Sean, you are staring." Arthur whispered, an eyebrow rose pointedly at him. Ireland shuddered, trying to ignore the fact that he wasn't the only one staring at the blond appreciatively. But if the frog dared to put a hand where it didn't belong and the Irish wasn't going to answer about any missing limbs.

"Hum..." The blond shocked his head and turned back to the meeting, a plain golden earring on his earlobe catching the red head's eyes as he did. Sean definitely needed to learn where his ex-wife had been going dressed like this and torch down the place.

"Pay attention, will you?" Ireland nodded, not really registering the words but he easily recognized the tone in which they were said. Sean, as any good husband, had learned to agree on reflex whenever his wife employed it. Even after they divorced the Irish man knew better than to disobey him when he used that tone. "Sean."

"Yes, Arthur" The blond didn't seem to be too convinced but he turned his attention back to South Korea's presentation, leaving Sean free to ogle him for the rest of the morning. When Ludwig finally called a break for lunch, Sean stayed seated, entranced. He only reacted when Arthur stood to collect his guitar, reaching out to pull the British back, the man squealing loudly as he fell.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" The British protested hotly when he found himself sitting on the Irish's lap. "Unhand me this instant, you bastard!"

"For the love of God, Arthur, are you even wearing any underwear under those?" Said male squeaked indignantly when a hand squashed his behind, the red head kissing his neck at the same time. "...You are a bloody tease, you know that?"

"Sean, we are at a sodding meeting!" England shouted, a heavy blush seething on his face as he hit the other up side the head. Sean shuddered, turning his attention to the golden earring that had been teasing him all morning. "This-This is not place for doing such things!"

"But you look so hot like this..." Arthur groaned but finally gave in, kissing the Irish man back much to the red head's delight. "'Sides, they can get another room, building's big enough."

"What! Se-aaan..."

"I shall instruct the staff to prepare another room." Germany finally pronounced after USA slammed the door closed with an undignified cry. Various countries were complaining about British's lack of decency while others were complaining to Alfred for cutting the show off. The blond barely dogged in time when India threw Hungary's frying pan at his head in punishment, busy shouting something about 'bleach'.

"DAMN IT SEAN, I TOLD YO-" Canada blushed as he heard his mother's angry shouts turn into something that was decidedly not angry. "STOP IT YOU MORON, I-"

The meeting finally resumed an hour later in a room hastily put together situated as far as possible from their original one. A rather satisfied looking Ireland and an embarrassed England turned up two hours later, but not even France dared to tease the blond after being in the receiving end of a particularly nasty glare. In the end, the British Islands provided little input about the addressed matters, as Arthur fell sleep almost immediately on Sean's lap upon sitting.

Ireland, on his part, spent the rest of the evening glaring at France while the French gazed appreciatively at the dozing England. It did not help that Japan and Hungary stopped the meeting several times to take pictures. In the end Germany, Austria, Sweden and Switzerland banned England from the right of appearing at any kind of diplomatic meeting with any kind of clothing that didn't constitute a suit.

Prussia, wanting to have a laugh, dragged him to the next meeting wearing a female one.

* * *

Author's Notes: =D!


	15. Fun and Games

Author's Notes: Inspired by this: http://raziel01(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Kuziragumi-124653387. I own Iceland, Norway and Denmark's names. This was betaed by Jackidy so many thanks to you! ...I regret nothing!

* * *

Fun and Games

"They have been glued to the screen for the last five hours." Sigurðr informed him, sipping absently on his Donald Duck coffee mug. Arthur blinked, nodding slowly as he observed the quarrelling nations while sipping his own equally colourful mug of tea. Thankfully for him, the older nation always kept some tea in the house in case the British came to visit him, so it wasn't often he had to suffer through the Scandinavian preferred beverage... other than alcohol that is.

"_You are too slow." _

"_Careful!"_

"_Stop moving, will you?"_

"_Hemming my head"_

England had given Iceland a PS3 for his birthday after the nation had shown interest in the one Scotland owned when he visited him a few months ago. He himself took little note of the thing, but his brother and colonies loved to waste their time messing with the machine. What he hadn't expected was for Norway to show interest too.

"_We lost."_

"_I'm going to make him toast."_

"_I got it!"_

"_Damn it missed that one."_

"Are they always like this?" Arthur inquired after the brothers shared smug smiles after beating a level. The English man was used to seeing Norway frowning at him or glaring daggers at Denmark. While Hemming had always been more affectionate with Egil, watching the two messing around like a pair of teenager was a touch unsettling. "They seem… much more… energetic than usual." Or psychotic, but he hasn't dumb enough to say that around the blond.

"Yeah, pretty much its fun though, since it gives Norwe the chance to cut lose a bit." If cut lose mean proclaiming his superiority over... whatever he had just killed... "And Sweden loves to buy them new games; Japan must be making a fortune with those things." This explained the two boxes full of games in the floor beside the pair. Sweden had always been on the doting side…

"_To the left"_

"_What the fuck was that?!"_

"_HAHA IN YOUR FACE!"_

"_I hate this game."_

"I'm surprised Peter isn't with them, the lad loves to play with those things after all." Denmark chuckled, nodding while he observed as Egil pinned Hemming to the floor, the white haired boy ticking his older brother mercilessly. Iceland was stronger than he appeared to be if he could pin Norway to the floor. Then again, with the way the blond was gasping he probably didn't have a lot of strength to spare at the moment.

"_Are you going to take that back?"_

"_No wa-ay!"_

"_Well? If you say it I will stop!"_

"_Le-et me go-o!"_

"_Come on! Say it!"_

"_Ok-ay! Oka-ay! 'm sorr-yy! Le-et me-e go!"_

"Little guy is visiting Raivis I think. 'Sides, Tino doesn't like when he spends the whole day in front the television, will ruin his eyes, he says." And his ears, with the way the boy shouted.

"That it will" Only the ones who actually knew the Scandinavian nations knew that it was in fact Finland and Denmark were stricter than their partners, especially when it came to their 'kids'. Norway and Sweden preferred to look to the side, if not outright join in the mischief. It probed useful in world meetings though. "'Sides, the air will do him good."

"Haha, well, being a nation nowadays isn't quite the same those times. We can't expect him to run around when there are those kinds of things to catch his eye, can we?" England nodded, humming softly as offered some of his tea to Norway's Nisse. "And he is one of the youngest in Europe so he hasn't got many friends his age to play with."

"He could play with some of Spain's kids if he actually wanted, but he doesn't seem to be interested." Norway and Iceland had returned to their game by now, making England jump when Norway threw a rather vile curse when the screen turned black for the second time in the last five minutes.

"Really, I though he got along well with him." Sigurðr pointed out, Egil and Hemming cheering on the background as they finally beat whatever thing they were struggling with.

"You two sound like a pair of old women!" Hemming shouted, interrupting Arthur's response while Egil hid a smile behind his joystick. England snorted, having heard that particular one at least a thousand times from his own children, some much more colourfully phrased as well.

"You are older than Arthur, dear. So is Egil." Sigurðr shot back, grinning behind his mug as he did. "And you look much prettier than me in a dress, my dear!"

"Don't call me dear!" Norway shouted furiously, Iceland squeaking as his breath was cut off. The male turned an interesting shade of red while he tried to pull the blonde's arms off his neck. "And a dog would look better in a dress than you!"

"Sure thing honey, just don't kill the kids, will ya?" The man growled, but let the younger male go, Egil gasping and moving out of his reach. The blond turned moodily back to the game, his brother following him wearingly.

"Maybe it would be wise to leave them alone?" England suggested, not wanting a fight to break out. He had left his island to escape the quarrel at his household after all, not to start one at Iceland's home. He had no wish to call Finland to break the fight; Sweden might join in again and escalate it instead.

"I suppose it is time to make dinner anyway." Denmark agreed, picking the empty mugs and heading to the kitchen, England following easily. The pair waited for them to disappear into the house before turning back to the screen, Egil removing the bag of chips they had hide under the sofa's cushions when England and Denmark had entered the room.

"Old women." Norway repeated, pushing a button to start the next level of the game the siblings were playing.

"Old women." Iceland echoed before jumping when a monster attacked him and the brothers once again got lost into the game.

* * *

Author's Notes: I did it for the lulz!

Thank all the ones who had review, fav and used the other functions that I really don't use! Thank also to the ones go don't review but enjoyed it all the same!


	16. Still more majestic shalt thou rise

Author's Notes: This story has been floating in my head for months but I just got around to writing it down. Denmark's name is my own as are Portugal and Singapore. Iain, Sean, Patrick, Akshaya, Alex and Chris are Jackidy's, she also betaed this so many thanks to her.

* * *

Still more majestic shalt thou rise

They found her one day at tower of London. Had she been a normal being she would have been taken to the police, an attempt to search for her parents would have been made. But the guard had recognized immediately the kind of creature he was dealing with and the child had been a token to the Queen. He had been summoned scarce hours after, but even before seeing her he had already known, he had already felt the shift.

"Your Majesty" The woman nodded, true to her tittle, even as she held the sleeping girl in her arms. The girl was a red head, but not the same as her brothers. Arthur wondered if her eyes would match any of them. At least she wasn't plagued by the eyebrows of most Kirkland's. "Is that her?"

"We were hopping you could tell us." The nation nodded, picking the child from his monarch arms gently, caressing the small face softly. Children had always brought his more human side out, this one not the exception. "Arthur?"

"...It can be a matter of days or years, I have seen both." The Queen nodded, ever regal, but the blond had been alive for to long to not notice the subtle signs.

"We understand." And the interview stopped at that, one not knowing what to say, the other feeling like everything already been said. When the nation left, the girl cradled carefully in his arms, he wondered what the future would bring for her.

* * *

At the beginning, no-one noticed her presence. Most of the old dwellers had left his home, making the large mansion fell bear and lonely. But Arthur though it was for the best that the girl grew there. His occasional visits didn't see her at first, as she spend the first month of her new existence sleeping at her room, sometimes not waking for days.

But on the second month she gained more strength and Arthur began to show her around. She named herself Guinevere, a fitting name he supposed, and knew a more lot that she ought to. The nation was pleased at this because that would mean she would be at fewer disadvantages that she would had been otherwise.

"Mam, Where are you?" The pair was startled but the girl followed her caretaker easily enough, a quiet child by nature. Arthur was worried by that, but he hopped that she would grow out of it on her own. "Uh, who's the kid?"

"They found her in the tower of London. I believe she is the personification of the city." The boy nodded, inspecting the child curiously. "Do you need anything?"

"Oh, right! Mam, no-one was seen you in the last month! We were worried!" Arthur chuckled, patting his son annoyingly on the head. Patrick scowled, but didn't move away, his raven haired boy, the boy who now was becoming his father's responsibility instead than his mother's. "Mam"

"Oh, I've just been busy taking care of Guinevere." The boy grumbled something and then proceeded to drag the two of them out the house. Arthur gathered it was as good as anytime for the child to meet the rest of the nations and didn't protest the treatment.

* * *

"Mon Cher, you look pale." The meeting had broken off for the evening, but Arthur had stayed behind to get a few documents. "Have you been eating properly? Maybe you need me to take over you cooking again? We don't want poor petit Guinevere falling sick, oui?"

"Shut up frog. If I needed anything it would be for you to leave me alone." Francis hummed in response, his eyes not leaving his neighbour country. He had known the man for a long time and even if he couldn't pinpoint the cause, he could tell that something was off with him.

"Maybe you are getting too old to raise children?" The nation laughed as he ducked the paperweight thrown in his direction, exiting the room to avoid further attacks with a wink and a wave. "But I see your temper is as bad as ever, Mon ami!"

"Leave me alone you bastard!"

"Mum!" Stella shouted, irrupting into the room and dragging Guinevere behind her. "Mum! Can I play with her please?"

Arthur grinned at the red head predicament and nodded at the girl's kidnapper. Singapore squealed in delight and dragged her out the room, almost crashing into Portugal as they did. "Getting rid of her so quickly?"

"An evening with her won't do her ill... hopefully." Consuelo laughed, getting hold of the blonde's hand and began to drag him out the room as well.

"An evening with me won't do you ill either! Come on, a restaurant opened down street and I want to check it out."

* * *

"Oi, you jerk!" Sealand didn't bother to knock as he entered, Hana-Tamago following him excitedly. "Papa said that I could play with Guinevere!"

The red head stayed quiet, not protesting as the micro nation began to pull her arms insistently. Arthur sighed, wondering were he had gone wrong with the boy. Maybe Alfred and Christopher had conspired to train him to be as annoying as inhumanly possible. "You have to ask her Peter. You can't simply drag her around."

"Do you want to play with me?" The girl considered it carefully, staring unblinking at the micro nation before shocking her head firmly. "What! Why not?"

"You are too loud... And you insulted him." Peter stomped angrily at her, puffing his checks at her unspoken reprimand.

"Come on! Raivis, Patrick and Michael are coming too!" Guinevere looked thoughtfully at the boy, considering her options carefully. The girl had grown fond of his son over the last months and he knew that his presence would be enough to win her over under normal circumstances.

"Don't worry, I don't mind. As long as you don't pick up his awful manners you can go if you wish to." Sealand protested hotly at the background, but neither of them paid him any mind. The two children left the house soon after, one a stark contrast to the other. It was a good thing, Arthur decided, for her to go out on her own. She needed to learn to relay on herself.

* * *

The mansion was quiet, all servants sent away for the day, a memory of past times that refused to be swept away. The nation sat motionless in his seat, a throne more than an armchair, eyes lost in the past. Most of his companions had already left, only the oldest keeping guard at his door, waiting anxiously for what they all felt near.

"Arthur." Akshaya wasn't surprised when her former ruler didn't react surprised by her presence. Instead he smiled at her, eyes mellow, and if she didn't know better, she would had thought him the same man that came to her shores so long ago.

"I though you would come." Was the simple greeting, a greeting that confirmed her worse fears, his next words did noting to sooth her, instead bringing the hopefulness farther into her heart. "I'm glad you did... I'm afraid there isn't much time left."

"...You smell of death, have done for months." The Indian lady sat down heavily beside the male, at his right, like she had during her time under his rule. "You didn't tell them, did you?"

"No. I though it best. I think some of them suspect something is wrong, but don't know what..." His voice, normally so strong, was soft, softer than ever before. Her ruler never tried to pull the wool over her eyes; he recognized he could never been able to, but for once, just once, India would have preferred he tried to. "Wang knows at the very least."

"Honda should know too, but he refuses to see." The female agreed, taking one of the male's hands and squeezed it gently. Her eyes were shinning, with grief or with rage she didn't know, but no tear would slip now. She would give him that much. "I would grid her neck if I had to. I would murder her in cold blood if I though it would help."

"I know."

"You protected her." It was not a reprimand, nor an accusation; it was but a simple statement. Akshaya wasn't surprised, but couldn't help but want him to be little more selfish, a little more reluctant. But he seemed content, completely at ease at the fate he had condemned himself to. "The youth shouldn't die before the old."

"No, it shouldn't." The man rose, strong, all melancholy gone from his face and for a second she could fool herself into believing he was back. But he wasn't, he had been gone for a long time now. "Will you walk one last time with me, my lady?"

"Yes, my liege"

* * *

Wales stood away from the rest of the countries, all whom had came to congratulate them for their independence and for the party that would follow. But a sentiment of unease had dropped over him, increasing rapidly when his twin absence. Her Majesty had already arrived and the signing would be in less than an hour. Some would say that Arthur was being contrary with his delay but Aeron couldn't shake the feeling that it was something else.

"What are you doing here alone?" The blond didn't protest as his brother enveloped him in hug, drawing comfort even as his eyes didn't stop searching the streets. "Arthur said he would be here."

"Something is wrong... I don't know what but something is definitely wrong." The Scott shook his head, hugging his companion closer, shaking his own unease to comfort him.

"We have been joined for a long time, maybe it is that." He didn't answer, so the two stayed like they were until Sean appeared, the rest of the nations following him.

"Where is he?" But he wasn't looking at them. Ireland felt what his brothers did, what his son did, and every second increased it. Patrick had been glued to Michael the whole day, but Sean hadn't even entertained the though of separating them. "He will be late if he doesn't hurry."

The feeling of unease had spread to the rest of the nations present. Denmark and Sweden were completely silent as they joined the three brothers, Norway snapping at anyone who dared to come near. Australia had wrapped himself around New Zealand and even his koala hadn't caused his usual mischief. France had stayed near the North American twins the whole day, the pair strangely subdued even for Canada.

The three appeared a few minutes later, India walking at his right while he led the girl by his left. A few nations gasped at the sight, for Arthur appeared to be glowing faintly, little dots of little floating around his head and Guinevere. A group of strange creatures followed them, almost too faint to be seen, but becoming clearer the closer they came.

"What? Arthur?" Aeron stood frozen, staring at his twin, almost as if he had never seen him before. Iain held him tightly and he feared that he would have fallen to the ground otherwise. "Arthur?"

"...I'm sorry." Arthur paused and for a moment it seemed that he wouldn't say anymore. But he continued, in a soft voice, almost as he was trying to lessen the blow. "I... When our lands grew, so did I. I'm afraid that I was unable to go back. I... I think I was supposed to go before this. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell us? WHY DID YOU TELL _ME_?" Aeron broke free of Iain's arms, looking as he was going to strike Arthur but stopped short, white as a sheet as he finally dropped to the ground. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." It stung, almost like a slap to the face, but Wales knew he was right. They had little power over themselves, always had. Even if he had known, there had been nothing he could have done to stop the process. "I... Sigurðr agreed to take care of her, at least until she can take care of herself."

Denmark moved slowly, almost reluctantly and the girl went willingly after one last shared glance with the blond nation. Wales bitted back a sob when his brother began to grow fainter, the shine growing stronger and making him blurry. Or maybe it was the tears that had began to run down his face. Ireland finally moved them, shaking all over as he his hand went trough Arthur's when he tried to touch him.

"_Arthur._" It was a faint whisper, almost inaudible but the blond shank back, taking his hand in the other and not meeting his older brother's eye. "_Arthur!_"

"I... I have to go now." India moved away, standing now next to her fellow ex-colonies while the creatures turned around and began to walk away. The street had turned blurry by now, a silver shimmer in the air, almost like a thick mist. But Sean knew it wasn't. "_I'm sorry._"

And Arthur disappeared without another word, surrounded by most of his oldest companion, a single fairy stating behind, floating silently next to the child at Sigurðr's side. But unlike the king of yore, Arthur would not return from Avalon when his land comes to peril. It was simply not his place to do so anymore.

* * *

Author's Notes: ...Don't kill me?


	17. Official Business

Author's notes: I did it for the lols. Stella belongs to me. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Akshaya, Alex and Chris belong to Jackidy as does Seychelles' name, but I have permission to use them. She beated this so many thanks to her.

* * *

Official Business

"I still think is a date." North Ireland remarked while he observed his mother as he inspected himself in the full body mirror. Seychelles nodded, humming softly as Canada brushed her hair and pulled it back into a braid. "You two are going out shopping and then for dinner!"

"Paddy, buying a door to replace the one he destroyed trying to murder Alfred for trespassing is not a date... Nor is eating dinner together if the government put us to it." Arthur Kirkland answered primly, turning to glare exasperatedly at his former colonies. "What makes you think that we would go out anyways?"

"That the two of you were married?" New Zealand pointed out without removing his nose from his book. The poor thing was sporting a dent from when the brunet had used it to fend of Australia, but the thick tome held together surprisingly well for such regular abuse. "And you know what they say about denial..."

"Very funny, Alex. And we all know how wonderful that went." If England's voice carried a bit of bitterness in it no-one pointed it out. "I have no wish to walk down that path again."

"But it would be so romantic!" Jackeline sighed, Stella giggling softly when the older woman graved the brush from Matthew's hand and began to brush the other nation's hair. "Old lovers finding Love again..."

"If your idea of love includes warring against each other..." Thanking the fairy warmly, Arthur placed his Walkman in his traveler's bag and exited his bedroom. "You kids really need to find other things to amuse yourselves."

"They are just exited that their mother is going out with their father again." Akshaya laughed heartily at Arthur's disgruntled expression. The Indian lady shared a smug look with the rest of the ex-colonies present, ever present cup of tea on her hands.

"Why is everyone so fixed on this being a date?!" England shouted, trowing exasperated hands into the air and storming off. "Ireland is an inconsiderate git! Why would anyone want to date that sodding idiot?! Besides, he wasn't around much when I was raising this lot, if anything, they should call Iain father."

"Who is calling who father?" Aeron was busy at the stove when the group irrupted into the kitchen, Alfred and Peter rubbing their reddened hands while Christopher sported a bruised check. "And takes those wankers out of my kitchen!"

"Fuckers are convinced that my dinner with Sean tonight is some sort of date." Almost identical green eyes narrowed, the welsh placing the spatula into the counter and placing his hands on his hips threateningly.

"And is it?" England spluttered while the nations laughed maniacally from behind him. Wales didn't spare them a glance, more interested in glaring threateningly at his twin.

"For the love of God, no!" The blond shouted as he left the kitchen, the doorbell wailing as someone abused it. Aeron grunted noncommittally, looking much more treating that a man in a sheep covered apron had any right to.

"Eh, hi?" Sean Kirkland, better known as the Republic of Ireland had not been expecting his former spouse's children to be there when he picked up the male. "What are they doing here?"

"Getting on my nerves, what else?" The nations adopted their most innocent expression, making Arthur snort in disbelief. The lot didn't have enough innocence between them to fill a match box.

"Uh, sure. Hey, my boss said to pass this to you." Sean shuddered, handing a stash of papers to his British counterpart. Arthur grunted something under his breath before going inside the house to put the paperwork in his studio. The nations stared openmouthed at the Irish man until his son finally found his tongue.

"DAD! You brought mom paperwork as a gift?!"

"How unromantic!"

"And mom was married to you? No wonder you guys got a divorce..."

"Even Christ knows what to bring for a date..."

"Maybe you are right mom, you shouldn't go out with him."

"...Even the _hairy bastard_ isn't so bad."

"Who is going with who for a date?!" Ireland winced when the voice of his missing brother rung across the house, an irate looking scot stalking dangerously toward him. Iain was of the opinion that the red head had nothing to do near the youngest Kirkland after the divorce, even after, or specially after sixty years.

"For the last time! This isn't a bloody date!" England roared, the rest of the nations wincing as they shrank back under his glare. "Come on Sean!"

Ireland shuddered, following his irate ex-wife silently so to avoid the male's wrath. The nations stayed quite for a second, staring as the pair disappeared down the street before USA finally broke the silence. "Should we follow them?"

"You bet we are going to! Oi, Iain, get your bloody truck out!" Wales shouted, trowing his apron behind him, the rest of the nations cheering as they followed the welsh into the scot's beat down truck.

* * *

The store was thankfully bear as they made their way through it, clerks waving in England's direction ever so often. The man came here often, either to buy something for his garden or to replace whatever new piece of furniture or infrastructure that had met its demise at his ex-colonies' hands. The girl who attended them was very helpful and didn't seem to find their purchase strange at all.

"So, anything else we have to get?" Sean inquired after he finished signing the delivery paperwork. "I mean, anything you need for the house?"

"Michael mentioned something about a teapot Aeron wanted me to get him." The blond frowned as he though, bitting on a nail absently. "That's all I can think off."

"Michael?"

"Hong Kong."

"Ah, sure." Ireland scratched the back of his head sheepishly, more interested in staring at his companion that thinking about who this Michael was.

The relationship between them, like with the rest of their brothers, had always been tense, going from overly friendly to down right cutthroat. After their divorce, which was about the worst time between them in centuries, the two had tried to be as far as way from each other as possible, aided in no small way by their various extended family. The end result was that now that their governments decided that they had to work together again they simply didn't know how to deal with each other.

"There's no need for you to come with me." Arthur finally stated as they inspected the various teapots and cups in display. "You can wait at the car..."

"Nah, it's cool." England snorted disbelievingly and picked one with a Lilly pattern on the side. Ireland smiled uncertainly back, which caused the blond to look away blushing. The two stayed like that for a second until the sound of glass breaking snapped the out of it.

Arthur mumbled something about paying for the china before rushing off. The red head had to ran to keep up with the disappearing blond, so neither saw a pair of twins, one carrying a polar bear dashing out from behind a curtain display or an Indian woman emerging from with it a closet.

"Is it my imagination or is that Iain's truck?" Arthur asked, Aeron's new teapot safely wrapped and put away in the trunk.

"No way that piece of junk can carry that amount of people." Sean answered flippantly, sharing a smirk with the blond before they realised what they were doing and both looked away.

"...Your boss said anything of when they needed the paperwork back?" England asked, trying to start a conversation to distract them both.

"Uh... As soon as possible?"

"You weren't listening to him were you?" Arthur scoffed playfully at the Irish man, whose ears turned a rather clashing red in embarrassment. "You really don't change, do you?"

"Hey, I'm not so bad!" When a single eyebrow rose in disbelief the red head shuddered unapologetically. "Okay, I'm so bad."

"You never listened to what I said either..." A heavy silence settled over them for the next ten minutes of the trip, only broken when Sean parked the car and they walked out the parking lot. "Sorry... Didn't meant to say that..."

"Not at loud at least?" Ireland remarked causing England to glare at him. "Ok, ok, shutting up now."

"Let's just go in before I murder you at the entrance."

"But who would pay the bill then?"

"True." A waiter pointed them to their reserved table, the couple ordering their food and settling back into silence. Arthur sighed tiredly, wondering idly what the members of his household where doing at the moment.

"So... How is Paddy?"

"The lad is fine, a bit disappointed that he isn't growing as much as he wants to but aside of that fine." And considering the ways a nation grew up, disappointment was better than any alternative. "I thought you two had began to spent time together..."

"Well, yeah... But, well, I guess I simply missed to much..." For him to talk to me.

"...Yeah." Arthur picked his glass up and drawned the content to push back the lump forming in his throat. Patrick wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable with Sean after all. By a number of reasons.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you if it was fine if he spent his birthday with me this year." Arthur glanced up surprised at the question but nodded hesitantly.

"If he wants to I don't se a reason why not..."

"Great." Sean gulped, staring at the wall over Arthur's shoulder instead toward his disappointed face. If he looked at the nation in the eye he knew he would lose what ever courage he had managed to gather. "…You know… you could always com-"

"I must insist you leave this please at once or I will call the police!" The waiter's shout startled them, Ireland's words fading into the back of their mind as they saw a very familiar group of people half hidden by a bamboo screen at the corner of the restaurant. Arthur gapped for a moment while Sean began to knock his head against the table, wondering if he would ever had the guts to ask his question again.

"For the love of… What are you doing here?" The blond was in front of them in an instant, grabbing the two nearest ears, Stella and Peter's, while glaring hotly at the rest. "Explain. _Now_."

"Hum, we decided to come here for dinner?" The two nations screamed when the man's hold tighten for an second them began to rube furiously when he let them go. But the countries knew better than to think that they were out of the lop.

"OUT! OUT I SAID!" England screeched, face red with embarrassment and rage. "When we get home I'm going to leave all your backsides _raw_!"

"WA! RUN!"

* * *

The trip back was tense, Arthur glaring at the window furiously as they drove behind Iain's car. The manager of the restaurant had let them go without paying, all to eager to have them out of his establishment. Sean, not in a better mood by a long shot, tried his best to not smash his car into the back of the truck, hands white as they clutched the wheel. Next time he needed to take Arthur out he was simply kidnapping him.

"You lot, you have five seconds to give one good reason to not _gut _you!" The ex-colonies had unconsciously formed a line, the older at the back and youngest at the front. Even Scotland and Wales seem to be nervous, while India had disappeared into the house, presumedly to make tea and win the blond over with it.

"We wanted to see your date!" Arthur could feel a vein pop while the culprit was not so subtly hit from all directions. The countries froze as he moved to pick up a discarded broom near the door, a maniacal glint in his eye.

"AH! DON'T KILL US!"

"MOM, PLEASE, WE ARE SORRY!"

"MOM, THINK OF THE NINE MONTHS OF WORK!"

"HELP!"

"SHUT THE BLOODY FUCK UP BEFORE I ACTUALLY KILL THE LOT OF YOU!" Alex yelped, jumping into Chris arms shaking. Patrick had disappeared behind Michael and refused to came out while Alfred had took refuge behind Matthew, muttering something about a war and soldiers. "AND WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH IF IT WAS A SODDING DATE OR NOT?!"

"But mom! We were only worried about you!"

"MY FOOT!" The Ionean Island yelped as he dodged a hit to the backside. "I'LL SHOW THE LOT OF YOU WHY _I _WAS THE EMPIRE!"

"DAD, HELP ME!" Paddy shouted as his mother closed in, broom ready to dish punishment. The rest of the countries was watching wide eyed as the raven haired boy shrunk back, panic clear in his face.

"Er, Arthur?"

"YOU SHUT UP! I'M NEVER GOING OUT WITH YOU AGAIN!" Ireland yelped as he found himself now facing an armed and very angry English man.

"I thought it wasn't a date!" Sean protested as he ducked, arms flying to cover his head. When he felt the broom hit his backside he reflexly uncovered his face, hands flying to his stinging bottom.

"_AND WHAT DID YOU THINK IT WAS?!_" England shouted hitting the other firmly in the head. "FUCKING IDIOT!"

Ireland stared defeated as England marched back into the mansion, leaving the rest of the nations locked out as he closed the door. Scotland blinked, then picked his brother not to gently of the floor and pointed towards the streets. "I'm going to get drunk! Who ever is coming pile on the truck and let's go!"

Arthur was so irritated that the group had to call Ludwig and Roderich to bail them out the next morning. It was a day all agreed to left forgotten, mostly fearing Arthur's wrath if they dared to mention it around him. England just wished that the fear would last more than a gold fish's memory.

* * *

Author's notes: =D! Sorry Ireland, you can't catch a break with me it seem. Better luck next time?


	18. From the four corners of our lands

Author's Notes: Plot? What Plot? Iain, Aeron, Sean, Patrick and Michael belong to Jackidy who also betaed this. Thank you very much.

* * *

From the four corners of our lands

He was getting ready for a meeting when he felt a pair of arms wrapping around him and his body being pushed against another. A warm mouth breathed into his ear and teeth sank into his earlobe. Arthur whimpered his ears have always been sensitive and the other nation chuckled, pulling him deeper into his arms. "Sean! You bloody wanker! I have a meeting to go to... as do you for the matter!"

"Hum, you know you like it." Ireland whispered in his ear, causing the English nation to shiver and blush. The red head grinned when he saw the blush, which only made the blond blush harder. "You are so cute, my dear."

"Shu-ut up, an-nd stop call-ing me that!" The other male protested, trying and failing to pull away from the Irish man. Sean grinned mischievously, hugging the nation closer and kissing him on the check. "Sean, unhand me this instant or so help me!"

"Oi, what are you doing here?!" Iain, having heard Arthur's screams, burst into the room, glaring darkly at his brother. Things were still a bit tense from the way Ireland had broken off the Union and Scotland preferred to keep his neighbour nation well away from their younger brother. "Hands off, you Irish bastard, how did you get inside anyway?"

"You have him for yourself all day." Ireland whined, rubbing his check against their blushing brother's. England wondered if it was possible for him to turn any redder. Probably, with the way Sean's hand were moving. "Don't hog him, you fucker."

"He is my wife." Scotland snapped back, the two brothers glaring at each other while the third protested loudly. Not that the red heads paid him any head. "Hands off, _or I'll cut them off_."

"I'm not you bloody proper-SEAN!" Arthur yelped as a hand squished his behind, the other holding him firmly around the waist. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"You fault for being so cute." Sean spoke in singsong, grinning mischievously, eyes dark as he run his hands up the English's sides. "Hum, I wonder how long it would take me to make you cry my name..."

"That's it!" Scotland growled, grabbing England from the Irish arms roughly and pushing the English behind himself. "Get out_, now_."

"Careful you idiot" The male protested, hitting the scot on the head then the Irish for good measure. "You two will stop this foolishness. _Right now_"

"What the fuck is going on here?" Wales, who had been cooking breakfast scowled at his older brothers, moving to fix England's crooked tie. Aeron slapped Iain's wandering hand away with a wooden spoon before pointing with it at Arthur's clock. "You are going to be late if you don't hurry up. I don't want the yank coming to the house again."

"They are just being their horny, perverted selves." Aeron scowled, the twin glaring at their older brothers darkly. "I swear they are worse than France sometimes."

"HEY!" But the twins ignored them, Arthur moving to pick his suitcase as Aeron picked up his jacket.

However, before the pair was able to complete their self given task they found themselves caught in their brothers' arms. Scotland quickly threw Wales' spoon away before the blond could hit him again and England's suitcase met a similar fate in Ireland's hands. "Oi, Iain lock the door would ya?"

"Sure!" Iain shouted back, Aeron protesting hotly from his position over his shoulder. "You close the curtains then."

"PUT ME DOWN YOU HAIRY BASTARD!"

"SEAN, I SWEAR, I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU WITH A RUSTY _SPOON_!"

Arthur growled as he was deposited not too gently on his bed, his twin joining him a moment later. "Really, with the way you two are behaving one would think you prefer their company to ours." Sean drawled, trapping the English twin underneath himself. "Can't have that now, can we Iain?"

"No we can't Sean." Iain agreed, both nations smirking lecherously at the protesting males. Arthur groaned, knowing quite well there was no way he was making it to the meeting now.

No way at all.

* * *

Patrick sighed as the hyperactive country behind him whined about the nation taking too long. Alfred had kidnapped him from his date with Michael when his mother failed to appear on the nations' meeting. Normally, USA would have simply broken into the house, but England had not been happy when he knocked down his door last time…neither had Wales and Scotland for the matter.

And even if Alfred was a hero, he, was scared by England's maniac brothers…Terrified more like it.

"I still don't see why you can't check on him on your own." North Ireland protested, letting the blond enter his mother's house. "Sides, dad came to visit this morning..." But Alfred ignored him, already searching the house's first floor for the missing Arthur.

"Maybe he slept in again?" USA said to himself, climbing up the stairs to his mother's room. Patrick stayed at the living room, counting silently until a scream shock the house. Alfred came running down the stairs, slamming the door behind himself. A few minutes later a scowling Iain appeared, clad in his father's trousers and headed to the kitchen.

"Hey Paddy" Iain muttered, not really paying attention to the teen as he opened the refrigerator, extracting a tube of ice cream from it. "Your dad is up there so you better scram."

"Will do" The black haired teen answer, pocketing his keys and grabbing an apple in his way out "Hong Kong said he would be waiting by the theatre."

"Whatever." Scotland answered distractedly, climbing up the stairs with a tube of ice cream under one arm, a pair of spoons and a bottle of whisky on the other. Northern Ireland decided that it would be best for him to spend the night at his own home. Maybe Michael would agree to keep him company.

It was not like his father was going to go looking for him anytime soon after all.

* * *

Author's Notes: Alfred, you really should know by now to not enter a room full of Kirkland's and expect to exit unscathed.


	19. Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Author's Notes: I'm back and I come with random ideas. Many thanks to Jackidy for beating this. I own Denmark's name.

* * *

Drink up me hearties, yo ho

The pub was extremely noisy at this time of the day, which made Vasch wonder exactly _what and how_ had he ended with this particular group drinking German beer after another pointless meeting with the world nations. Not only was_ Austria_ sitting at his side but _France_ was trying to get acquaintance with his behind for the fifth time this evening. It was a shame that his boss had forbid him to bring his rifle this time, something about _cordial_ foreign relationships and being mistaken for a terrorist.

"That Inglaterra is causing trouble again, si?" Spain wondered out aloud, not minding the fact that his brother had met the floor yet again at the Swiss hands. That the other patrons of the establishment didn't react to the spectacle probably probed that this was not the first time a nation had found his or her way to it. "He is still refusing to use Euros."

"Ah, yes, it is causing much trouble for my tourists." Germany replied while he nursed a mug of beer. Prussia was conspicuously absent today and Switzerland just hoped he wouldn't found him at his house. He had left Lilli alone for the night for some reason he was still trying to remember. At least she _did_ have access his riffle. "But it is his decision."

"Angleterre is just being his usual contrary self. Dieu forbid he goes with the group for a change." Francis grunted as he stood, using the opportunity to grope the oblivious Antonio, and retook his seat. "Why aren't Arthur and Gilbert with us tonight in any case?" It was fairly strange for either of them to miss an opportunity to get drunk, after all.

"Both went with the Nordics to spend the evening at Iceland house, I believe. Sweden mentioned leaving Sealand in Lithuania's care." Roderich informed the other, sniffing at his glass when he found a spot of dirt. "I believe Danish beverages are involved as well." Which meant they were getting wasted at Iceland's home while dumping the kid elsewhere for the night.

"Why do you know that?" Ludwig inquired but Roderich had started a staring contest with Vasch and was currently oblivious to his very existence.

"If only there was a way to convince him… or trick him into it." Antonio mused out loud, gulping down the rest of his glass. France by now was getting bored and was, foolishly, attempting to grope Austria within sight of Switzerland. The Frenchman was seconds away from receiving a sixth beating from the nation if he didn't stop himself.

"Trick him… Like, isn't England totally a light weight?" Feliks pointed out from behind a sleeping and now nail polish wearing Hercules, which probably explained why Vasch hadn't noticed their presence until now. "We could, like, get him drunk and make him sign the paperwork."

"That is hardly a proper way to conduct ourselves… But it might work out." The group stared at the Austrian in disbelief before turning to Francis when he hit the table having got distracted from his previous endeavour. The bar tender glared at them when their glasses came close to falling off the table but the nations were more concerned in the current turn of events than the human's glare.

"_Mon Dieu_, why haven't we thought of this earlier?" Francis could just see how this situation could be turned to his favour in more than one way. It was always a good time to humiliate an Englishman after all... Or grope him if the opportunity arose. "Mon Chers, this is what we will do…"

* * *

"So, you are going to invite Arthur to our house so you can get him drunk so he accepts to use Euros." Ludwig shifted uncomfortably, their plan sounded even _stupider_ when his brother said it like that. It had sounded much more viable at the pub, probably the alcohol. Gilbert for his part stared blankly at him for a moment before bursting in the kind of mad laughter that made Europe get insomnia. "This is rich! When are you doing this shit?"

"After the meeting next Friday" The albino, still crackling, picked up the phone and dialled. When who ever he called picked up he prosed to shout into the receiver. "Hey Sigurðr, listen to this! Ludwig and the rest are planning to get Arthur _drunk_! Yeah, I know! Hey, bring your ass this Friday and bring some good stuff. Ask Tino if he wants to come too. It's going to be _awesome_!"

"Hum, brother..." While Ludwig had not seen Denmark drunk he had seen _Finland_ drunk and he really wanted the house to stay in one piece. Germany didn't want to be the one who explained to his boss why they needed to rebuild it_ again_.

"...And bring your camera, Lovino hasn't bought me a new one yet. What do you been why he has to buy one? He broke mine when he threw it at Idiot Spain's face! See your mug on Friday then... And remember to bring the booze!" Germany was starting to seriously wonder what the other had drunk. Maybe France had slipped something in it?

* * *

England first noticed that something was off when France showed up early with Spain. It was a known fact that the frog did not do early. When Switzerland initiated a conversation willingly with Austria he began to wonder if Aeron had slipped something on his tea this morning. Or maybe it was Chris, bloody rascal, or any of his god forsaken children for that matter. He should have drowned them when he had the chance.

"Angleterre, will you join us at Germany's house tonight?" The frog, in Arthur's honest opinion, failed utterly to appear innocent. But then again, it was _Francis_.

"Why the fuck would I want to spend the night with you?" The Englishman grunted, arranging his belongings and pretending to dismiss the French. He had to give it to him, however, at least this time Francis had been smart enough to talk with him out of any of his siblings' hearing.

"Gilbert and Sigurðr promised to be there and we are all bringing various drinks for the evening." England grunted again, but France could see that he was interested. "So, mon ami, will you come?"

"Sure, why the hell not" Never let it be said that a British man turns down _free_ alcohol when offered.

* * *

The evening started well enough, even when Russia invaded them and he and Finland had a smiling stand off until Denmark sent them in their way. Prussia burst into mad laughter ever so often but the alcohol made it easier to ignore him...Somewhat. Vasch found it increasingly more difficult to focus in a lot of things. But as the bottles piled and more and more countries passed out it was obvious that something was going wrong.

"Shooo~ why did ya bashtards came 'ere? Wash ish thish abou' anyway?" Arthur slurred as he began to burry Francis under a pile of different kind of alcohol. The Frenchman had passed out an hour ago, but he had lasted more than Vasch and Roderich who had gone out like lights after the third or forth bottle "Wash going on?"

"Bashtards wanted sho trick ya into taking da Euro..." Gilbert, just returning from dumping Ludwig in his room, replied and followed it with a storm of curses when he almost tripped over Antonio "Who caresh? Lesh finish da booze!"

"Tino, leave Ivan alone, pleash?" Sigurðr ordered more than requested when he noticed that the Fin had got far to close to the Russian for comfort. The blond pouted, but relinquished, settling with braiding Feliks hair instead, the Pole had lasted surprisingly long, but even he couldn't hope to match a Dane or Fin with a seemingly unlimited amount of alcohol.

England, job finished, mumbled something before deciding that it was sleeping time and snuggled in Denmark lap before dosing off. Sigurðr, not minding in the slightest, finished another beer and picked another. They still had to finish Ivan stash after all.

* * *

Author's Notes: I have always found strange that a former pirate would be a light weight considering they practically ran with that stuff back in the day. That in the medieval times some kind of fermented drink was common because water was not potable only makes it _worse_.


	20. The Faerie Queene

Author's Notes: More wackiness. Aeron, Iain, Sean and Patrick belong to Jackidy. Thanks to her for beating this.

* * *

The Faerie Queene

They were supposed to be holding a meeting at Alfred's capital to deal with the current economic crisis and environmental measures to mitigate the global warming. Supposed since the nation had decided that the day was too beautiful to be wasted in an office and dragged them to some part of his territory. Several nations had protested the treatment but Germany had been able to negotiate with the blond and they agreed to spend the day at whatever location the boy chose as long as they didn't have to endure eating McDonalds for the rest of the week. That shut most of the complainers up.

So the nations followed USA more or less willingly across his states until they arrived at what appeared to be tranquil countryside near an old town and woods. Or it would have been tranquil if there weren't hundreds of people bustling around in some of the strangest or laziest costumes possible.

"Alfred, what is the meaning of this?" Arthur stared as a man dressed in what appeared to be a Viking lead a female musketeer to one of the stands.

"It's a fair of course, old man, aint this awesome!" The man would have contested the point if he hadn't found himself pulled into the moving mass of people.

"Mam, look at that!" The black haired boy teen shouted, dragging his mother without listening to the man's complains. "I bet you can beat all of them! Come on!"

"Paddy, wait up!" Aeron called, Iain hurrying to follow as Sean claimed Arthur's other hand. Alfred grinned, satisfied in a job well done and proceeded to emote his younger brother and drag Matthew with him as he ran after the United Kingdom and Ireland.

"I can't believe we are losing time like this." Roderich stated as Elizabeta dragged him over to a weapon's stand. "We have important matters to attend."

"Chill, specs, at least we aren't going to get a coronary this visit." The Austrian nation snorted but he had to agree that anything was better than eating McDonalds for several days straight. "Come on! Let's check this place!"

Patrick was leading them out after Arthur crushed the competition at the archery field when Sean saw a costume stand. Arthur and Aeron were inspecting a Robin Hood outfit when they were grabbed from behind and tossed into the changing room. When Patrick joined them a moment later, the brothers realized it was too late to escape.

* * *

"Why the fuck I am wearing this" Vasch growled as he fixed the chain mail a man had handed to him. The plate, while a good one, was not something he was used to wearing after all this years. "And why the hell are we joining the joust?"

"Like, we are totally going to win this, right Liet?" Poland drawled while Lithuania sighed at his friend aptitude. France was fixing his hair near the tent entrance while Matthew and Alfred helped Sean and Iain put on their own arms. "Like, we are totally going to kick their ass."

"HA! Dream on!" Prussia shouted, grinning evilly at them while Hungary polished her lance. Austria, unable to prevent the madness unfolding before him, was lamenting the fact with Germany. Estonia and Latvia had decided to leave the group and check the rest of the fair with the rest of the nations.

"SEAN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"IAIN, I'M GOING TO CASTRATE YOU!"

"DAD, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"Hum, what did you do Uncle Sean?" But the two brothers just grinned evilly and disappeared from the tent, not missing the chance to give France a free punch.

"WHERE ARE THEY?" Arthur roared as he burst into the tent, the effect completely lost due to the green gown he was currently wearing. Aeron followed him, glaring murderously in his matching dress while Patrick tried to hide behind his mother. The boy was looking quite adorable in his maroon dress. "MATTHEW!"

"Ah, they left a minute ago!" The Canadian yelped as he received the full force of the British pair's glares. England growled something under his breath and the trio disappeared, shouting for their prey as they went. Canada supposed he should be gland that they hadn't remembered about using bows or a sword. Well they hadn't remembered yet, at least.

* * *

"And now, ladies and gentleman, the tournament will commence. Now, I will announce a surprise for our contenders. This year, the reward for the winner is to escort one of these lovely ladies for the rest of the day!" Vasch cursed when the man pointed to a podium which housed three pissed looking Brits and a now embarrassed looking Lithuanian. When had they grabbed him?

France was the first to compete and lose from the group of nations, a boy named Steve throwing him off his horse in one blow. Hungary went second, shouting furiously about foul play while Prussia crackled. Later it was his turn to meet the ground at a grinning Feliks hands, the pole seeming to enjoy fully beating the nation. Vasch just wanted the day to be done with so he could return to the hotel and forget today ever happened.

Iain and Sean went against each other, the scot triumphing over the Irish. Then it was the Swiss nations turn and Scotland found himself joining his brother at the ground.

"So, like, I'm totally winning this!"

"Let's get this done." The crowd cheered as the two knights fought against each other, none of them winning the upper hand. But on the third round Feliks succeeded in throwing Vasch down his horse, but he lost his balance and fell as well. The crowd watched in awe as the two unsheathed their swords and began to circle each other, searching for an opening.

"Feliks…" Toris sighed, knowing that his friend, after putting so much effort was not going to give up. He just hopped they didn't hurt each other too much.

"It has been a long time since we saw them fight like this." Aeron nodded, Patrick cheering the two fighters on, the boy probably having the time of his life.

"Whoa, never know Switzerland could do that!" Alfred shouted, wondering how his mother would have done at the arena. He had been a pirate so he must have been good, right?

"Ladies and gentleman, this is a show of skill we have never seen before, surely both contender merit sharing the first place for this year!" The crowd cheered and the two blonds lowered their swords and shook hands. "Now, which of these ladies will the knights choose?"

"Like, Liet, you totally own me!" Lithuania sighed again, but chuckled as he accepted Poland's hand. The blond never changed, that was for sure.

"And our second knight" Vasch stared at the group before offering his hand to a surprised Arthur. Lilli probably would like to spend the day with the man anyways…

"NO WAY!"

"ARTHUR!"

"Hey…" Aeron stared as his brother was lead away, leaving Patrick and him standing at the podium. "What about us?"

"Well, I won the chess tournament and Peter needs a partner for the dancing contest." Wales stared at Estonia for a moment then shuddered and nodded, Northern Ireland following his lead. Latvia gulped but led the other nation with a surprisingly steady hand and the group left the arena behind ignoring the complaining British nations or the warring Prussian and Hungarian knights.

All in all, Alfred counted the day as a success.

* * *

Author's Notes: And Vasch wins the Faerie Queene's hand! About the fight, I think Hungary would have been the second best if Prussia hadn't known all her weak points. He is also one of the best foot soldiers, with Francis being one who should stick to the arts. And let's not forget that Vasch was a mercenary reknown for their skill with spears and Feliks dominated a good part of the Baltic region for a time too.


	21. Älteste Schwester

Author's Notes: Someone asked for some England-other nation than France/USA/Canada interaction. Here you go. Jackidy owns Aeron, not that he does much in this one, and Akshaya. She also betaed this, so many thanks to her. I own Belgium's name and Portugal.

* * *

Älteste Schwester

Liechtenstein was leaving the world meeting building, her brother gone ahead to discuss something with Germany when she felt her name being called behind her. She turned and was surprised to see England jogging toward her, a brightly wrapped packet on his arms. "Miss Zwingli, may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course, hum, there is no need for the Miss, Lilli will do." The younger girl answered, nodding politely at him. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, well, you remember the football match the other day? I'm deeply sorry about the mix-up with our anthems. I hope you can accept this as an apology." Liechtenstein blinked as the nation offered the packet he had been carrying.

"Oh, there is no need for that!" The girl protested, waving her hands in front herself. "It was a simple mistake, really!"

"I insist. Here, I hope you like it." Lilli received the gift, fearing that she would insult the older nation with her refusal. The two nations said their farewells and the female made her way a bit dazedly to her brother's house; he had invited her for dinner tonight.

When she arrived the house was still empty so she headed to the kitchen and returned to the living room with a pair of scissors. When the wrapping paper was removed, her hands revealed a box with the pattern of Lilies on the top. She opened it to reveal an antique sewing kit, much like the one Vasch kept around the house.

Lilli gazed at the contents of the box on her lap and she knew she was getting a bit teary eyed. She had own one that resembled this one before the Depression, but she had been forced to sell it like all her other possessions for food. "Thank you." She whispered softly, hugging the box to herself.

When Vasch arrived to the house, he found his sister almost shinning with happiness. "Did something good happen?" He didn't remember her saying she was doing anything special for the day, but her full bloom smile made him curious.

"Yes!" Was the unhelpful answer, the girl grinning cheerfully at him. Switzerland stared at her for a moment and then decided he better start on dinner, if his sister wanted to tell him, she would do so on her own.

* * *

"Mister Kirkland!" Alfred pouted as Arthur turned away from him, the English man blinking as the younger female jogged toward the pair. "Mister Kirkland, may I have a moment please?"

"Of course, Alfred if you would excuse me"

"Sure old man!" USA's smile threatened to split his face in half as he waved then aside. Arthur nodded and the pair broke of, the male following his companion to the other side of the hall.

"Mister Kirkland, I wanted to thank you. I… I really enjoyed the gift you gave me!" England chuckled a bit embarrassed at the girl's obvious delight. It had been a while since someone thanked him this sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Miss- I mean Lilli. And please, call me by my name." Liechtenstein nodded, staring at the floor while she offered a carefully wrapped package to the male. "Lilli…?"

"I… I was really happy when I opened your gift and I wanted to give you something in return…" Liechtenstein blushed but looked at the male hopefully, searching for a minimum sign of displeasure. The English gentleman hesitated before receiving the package gently, like something far more precious that Liechtenstein would be ever able to produce.

"Then I will treasure this deeply." Lilli blushed, scrambling to find words but failing miserably. In the end, she was barely able to mutter an invitation for supper at her home.

"It will be my pleasure."

* * *

"Arthur, won't Vasch miss this one?" Akshaya inquired as she entered the room carrying a tea set. "I'm sure he is quite fond of her."

"…she is only visiting." Arthur answered after staring at her for a few seconds. Lilli looked up from her embroidery and blinked confusedly at the Indian woman. "Please don't confuse her."

"I didn't know you were friends." India pointed out as she served the tea, Liechtenstein and England thanking her politely as they took their cups. "You are a very polite lady, good."

"Not like the ruffians that usually pollute the house you mean." India snort indelicately and Liechtenstein wondered if she should protest in the absent nations' sake. She was saved from making a decision either way when the bell rang and a few minutes later Portugal and Belgium entered the room.

"Arthur! There you are. Come on, we are going shopping." Adelheid declared as soon as she saw them. "Lilli, Akshaya, why don't you come with us?"

"…And I don't get a choice?"

"Brother is useless and I'm not taking France."

"…fair enough." Because, really, who would take _France_ anywhere?

"Come on, then." Arthur sighed and put his own cup down and put his embroidery inside his sewing bag. He then turned to Lilli and smiled a bit sheepishly.

"You don't have to come if you don't wish to. We can take you home first." Liechtenstein blinked and turned to look at the women behind the male, not one looking as if they would mind her presence.

"I'd love to come too."

* * *

"Brother, look what Arthur made for me!" Vasch stared as his sister entered the room wearing a beautifully crafted Trachten. His brain was already calculating the dress' cost before it processed the actual origin of the garment.

"What?" But Liechtenstein had left the room already, so Switzerland was forced to follow her back to his living room. England was sitting on his couch, looking quite satisfied as his sister glowed in her new dress. "You made her that?"

"I though she would appreciate it." Arthur replied unconcerned, smiling as Lilli disappeared this time into the kitchen. Vasch almost shouted for her to change first or she would get the garment dirty but there were more important things to worry about right now.

"How did you get her measurements?"

"Hungary."

Switzerland growled and left the room, only to return with his riffle fully loaded and his coat. He needed to have a word with Hungary. "I'm going out!" Vasch shouted back into the house, murderous expression firmly in place.

"Be back in time for dinner then!" Wales shouted back, Liechtenstein giggling in the background. When had he married the British twins anyway? "And remember that Gilbert is coming for dinner tonight!" Or fucking Prussia for the matter?

* * *

Author's Notes: And so started the Swiss-Hungarian war =D.


End file.
